Book ''"^ 

Copyright N" 

COPYRrGHT DEPOSIT. 



IN A NEW WAY 



SERMON- ESSAYS 
ON WELL-WORN 
SUBJECTS 



BY 

EDWARD CHARLES HEARN 

Priest of the Diocese of Peoria 

Author of ''Old Thoughts on Old Theme s^'' ''Mistakes 
of Life,'' Etc, 



New York 

Christian Press Association Publishing Company 



Remy La fort, S. T. L. 

Censor Librorum 

+ JOHN M. FARLEY 

Cardinal Archbishop of New York 



Copyright 1912 by 
Christian Press Association Publishing Company 



gCI,A30r,720 



TO MY SISTER. 



CONTENTS. 



TART THE FIRST. 
I. 

GEATITUDE. 
II. 

EVIL COMMUNICATIONS COREUPT GOOD MORALS. 

III. 

KINDNESS. 

IV. 

VANITY. 

V. 

SCANDAL. 

VL 

HOME. 
VII. 

THE GOOD catholic's DAILY LIFE.— = 
PRE-LENTEN REFLECTIONS. 

VIII. 

CHRISTMASTIDE CONSIDERATIONS. 

IX. 

POST-CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS. , 



PART THE SECOND. 
I. 

ORIGINAL SIN. 



II. 

THE S)ONFESSIONAL.. 

III. 

INDULGENCES. 

IV. 

EESURRECTION. 

V. 

JUDGMENT. 

VI. 

PURGATORY. 
VII. 

ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. 



PEEFACE. 



I have read and I have heard that the selection 
of an appropriate title for a work has always been 
a matter of serious deliberation for an author. 
This for the reason that many persons judge of a 
book by the cover, and so they are, oftentimes, 
predisposed in favor of, or prejudiced against a 
work, by a glance at the title of the book, irre- 
spective of the contents. 

Among the critical appreciations that came to 
me in my first venture on the sea of Literature — 
Old Thoughts On Old Themes — was one from a 
venerable and saintly Bishop. You have treated'' 
he wrote me, ^ ^ old subjects in a new way. " ^ ^ Non 
novum, sed nove. ' ' This has been the idea upper- 
most in the author's mind, both in the treatment 
of the subjects that make up this modest volume, 
and in the selection of a title for the same. The 
Horatian advice to poets and to writers generally 
— ^^nonumque prematur in annum" — **and let it 
be held back till the ninth year" — has not been 
overlooked. Mindful of the dictum of the poet, 
the author has given his manuscripts careful and 



8 



IN A NEW WAY. 



attentive study and, after due consideration and 
following friendly counsel, now sends them out in 
their present form. 

These Sermon-Essays have been delivered 
neither in Cathedrals old and grey, nor in Uni- 
versities new and grand. They are not the 
weighty utterances and well-rounded periods of 
some far-famed divine, nor the masterly efforts 
and captivating climaxes of some popular present 
day orator. They are merely the studied and 
gathered thoughts of an unpretentious country 
rector who has been left to hve and to labor 
amongst a virtuous and God-fearing people; and 
who, in the dull hours of a lonely parish, has 
learned to find comfort in his home and compan- 
ionship in his books. 

Edwaed Charles Hearn. 

July 1, 1911. 



In all things give thanks ; for this is the will of 
God in Christ Jesus concerning yon all. 

I Thessalonians — 5-18. 



GEATITUDE. 



Theee is hardly anything so trying to the feel- 
ings of poor human nature, nothing, in fact, that 
we find more difficult to overlook and to forget, 
than the ingratitude which we experience from 
our fellowmen. If you have ever in your lives 
invoked a blessing that was repaid with a curse, 
bestowed a kindness that was received with cold- 
ness, or did a favor that met with forgetfulness 
and contempt, if there are at present among your 
kinsfolk, acquaintances or friends, those who are 
seemingly indifferent to your goodness or charity, 
or unmindful of your favors and benefits, you 
can best judge of, and understand, the despicable 
evil of ingratitude. 

Now, what is true of our own hearts and lives, 
is regretfully true, also, of the world at large with 
regard to Almighty God. We read in the seven- 
teenth chapter of the Gospel of Saint Luke that, 
on one occasion, as our Blessed Savior drew nigh 
to a certain town of Samaria, there met Him ten 
lepers who, standing at a distance and raising 
their voices in supplication, begged Him to have 

I Thessalonians — 1-18. 



/ 



12 IN A NEW WAY. 

mercy on them. Jesus pitying their condition, 
bade them go and show themselves to the priests. 
The lepers went in obedience to His command; 
and, on their way, were suddenly made clean. 
Struck at the miracle which had been so gra- 
ciously wrought in their favor, one of their 
number began with a loud voice, to proclaim the 
praises of the Almighty, ran back to his Divine 
Benefactor, and, casting himself at His feet, 
returned thanks for the blessing he had received. 
Jesus asked him if there were not ten who had 
been cured, and what had become of the other 
nine! For of them all, says Saint Luke, this was 
the only one who returned to give Glory to God — 
and he was a Samaritan. 

The reproach which our Blessed Lord cast 
upon the nine ungrateful lepers in not returning 
to thank Him for the mercy He had shown them, 
proves how very displeasing to Him is the sin of 
ingratitude. Ingratitude, says Saint Bernard, 
dries up the fountains of piety, stops the flow of 
Divine grace and hinders the hand of God from 
showering down the favors He has in store for His 
deserving friends. 

Cicero calls gratitude the mother of virtues; 
he reckons it the gravest of all duties; and uses 
the words ^^gratefuP' and ^^good'^ as synonymous 
terms, inseparably united in the same character. 
In truth, gratitude is one of the most beautiful 



GEATITUDE. 



13 



virtues in liuman nature ; yet it is as rare as it is 
beautiful. There are many people who feel happy 
over their good fortune and many who are even 
proud of it, and these feelings are, sometimes, con- 
founded with thankfulness ; but there is, in reality, 
no resemblance. A man may be happy to the 
point of ecstacy and proud almost to lunacy re- 
garding his person, his possessions, his talents 
and his achievements, without the slightest refer- 
ence to any other being but himself and with no 
idea of his obligation to any other person, either 
divine or human. On all sides we hear complaints 
of man's ingratitude to man'' and even parents 
know ''how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is 
to have a thankless child." Indeed, it is not an 
uncommon thing for kindness to even cause hatred 
or jealousy. The feeling of obligation, especially 
when it is too great to be discharged, is so irk- 
some to certain persons that they at times hate 
their benefactors and avoid the very sight of 
them. Now, if sincere thankfulness in human 
relations is rare, thankfulness toward the Cre- 
ator is even rarer. Yet no favor from above, say 
the Holy Fathers, ought to be received without 
the deepest sense of gratitude; for thankfulness 
for one blessing is the surest way to receive 
others. Gratitude, in fact, is a part of our chris- 
tian duty; it is a pleasing virtue and the charac- 
teristic of a good heart. It is far from enough, 



14 



m A NEVv^ WAY. 



/ 



to observe a silent respect for our benefactors', or 
to content ourselves with the inward satisfaction 
we feel on the occasion of some extraordinary 
favor they have done us. The nine ungrateful 
lepers were undoubtedly sensible of the notice 
which Jesus Christ had taken of them. They ad- 
mired His goodness and rejoiced at their cure. 
But they returned no public thanks; neither did 
they manifest any exterior sign of a grateful 
heart; and for their conduct their memory is 
branded with infamy, and they will stand out pre- 
eminent for all time as unwilling witnesses to the 
contemptible sin of ingratitude. 

And would, that these nine ingrates of the Gos- 
pel found none, or but few, followers. But alas ! 
we have only to look about us to be convinced how 
seldom thought of or how strangely forgotten is 
the Creator in His own world and that too by the 
creatures of His own hand. This is a deplorable 
fact, and one which is always a discovery and 
seems always new to us though we see more of it 
every day we live. Now, what better return can 
be given to a friend or benefactor, or how can we 
more heartily manifest our gratitude for favors 
received and our disposition to continue in the 
good graces of the donor than by our loyalty and 
fidelity in his service? And who has been a great- 
er and more disinterested friend, a more constant 
and unselfish benefactor than God has been to us? 



GEATITUDE. 



15 



All tliat we are, all that we have, and all that we 
can ever hope to be is the pnre gift of His bounty 
and goodness. Connt up all that God has done 
for us and then ask why He claims our gratitude. 
He has thought of us and loved us from all eter- 
nity. He brought us forth from nothing and gave 
us being and life. When, through the transgres- 
sion of our first parents we forfeited our right to 
our celestial inheritance, He mercifully promised 
His only begotten Son to pay the ransom; nay, 
notwithstanding our repeated transgressions and 
rebellions against Him He unceasingly showers 
down upon us His most abundant graces and bless- 
ings, and has even preserved us from falling into 
the abyss of eternal misery, when our crimes had 
provoked Him to punish us. Then there is the 
guardianship of bright and holy angels to which 
He has graciously entrusted us, our election in 
Christ by which we enjoy faith and the sacra- 
ments, our continual preservation in the midst of 
so many dangers incident to our condition and all 
the special helps, wisely adapted graces, and the 
fresh arrangements of divine tenderness which 
He gives us daily. 

If we had only the will to be grateful, would 
not every manifestation of human love, all the 
experiences of life, be they sweet or bitter, call 
forth our thanks, aid us to forgive all things, and 
bid us join with our fellowmen in hymns of 



16 IN A NEW WAY, 

thanksgiving! And yet, what does the Almighty 
meet with from the majority of men in return for 
all that He has done for us, save coldness, indiffer- 
ence, and contempt I How many seldom, or never 
reflecting on the source whence all blessings flow, 
go down to their graves with their hearts and lips 
sealed to that significant christian sentence. 

Thanks be to God.'^ Some, after devoting to 
this miserable and perishable world the hard 
service of a lifetime; after having squandered 
their days in pursuit of its tinseled riches and 
evanescent pleasures, endeavor to make good their 
losses by spending in the service of their Maker 
the last days of their existence. 

But suppose we look a little closer into this and 
examine our own lives, first, as to the amount of 
gratitude to God which they exhibit, and secondly, 
as to the manner in which we show it. There are 
twenty-four hours in the day, seven days in the 
week, fifty-two weeks in the year. We have vari- 
ous occupations and different ways of spending 
our time, and, even the most careless, must have 
some confused or general notion of the way in 
which his time is spent. Now we know that the 
service of God is the grand thing, or rather that 
it is the only thing about us that is great at all, 
and that in no better way can we manifest our 
gratitude than by employing our energies and our 
lives in His service. What amount of time is spent 



GRATITUDE. 



17 



upon it? How many hours of the day are spent 
in prayer, in the reading of pious books, in hear- 
ing mass, in visiting the Blessed Sacrament, or 
in other direct spiritual exercises? Of the time 
necessarily expended upon our worldly associa- 
tions, or the claims of society, how much is spent 
with any recollection of God, or with any actual 
intention to do our common actions for His glory? 
Can we give a satisfactory answer to these ques- 
tions? If not, must we not, to say the least, ac- 
knowledge that we are lacking in the gratitude we 
owe our Maker? 

Furthermore, our actions are many and varied. 
If we reckon both the inward and the outward 
ones they are almost as numerous as the beatings 
of our pulse. How many of them are for God? 
How many in the hundred ? If we study the care- 
fulness, forethought, energy and perseverance 
which characterizes our spiritual exercises, will 
the answer be altogether what we desire? We 
live encircled by God^s grace which flows around 
us like the air ; our minds are illuminated by the 
splendors of heavenly truths; our lives are 
charmed by great sacraments, and we are each of 
us the center of a very world of invisible grand- 
eurs and spiritual miracles. And yet, in spite of 
all this, I will not say it is sad, but that it is really 
surprising, that our gratitude to God should 
amount to so little as it does, whether we regard 



18 



IX A NEW WAY. 



it as to the time spent in actually thanking Him 
for His benefits, or as to the sincerity of our 
thanksgiving.* 

With a view, then, to arouse ourselves to a 
quickened sense of that gratitude which we owe 
to the Giver of every good and perfect gift, let 
us consider, even ever so briefly, a few of those 
blessings for which we owe a more special and a 
deeper sense of thanksgiving. 

And first in order comes Creation. Have you 
ever paused to reflect on what an immense boon 
the Omnipotent has conferred upon us in creating 
us? Wliatever the future life may disclose to us, 
it is certain, that, in our present state, we shall 
never be able to appreciate, nor even to realize 
its priceless worth for the reason that we can 
form no idea of what non-existence is. So gTeat 
a boon, indeed, is creation that theologians are of 
opinion that the hereafter of unbaptized children, 
though deprived eternally, as they certainly will 
be, of the blessed vision of God's countenance, is 
for them a positive good compared with non-ex- 
istence. Nay, philosphers reasoning from the 
standpoint that it is better * Ho be than not to be " 
do not hesitate to assert that even the woful lot 
of the reprobate is preferable to annihilation. 
Milton puts into the mouth of one of the arch- 
fiends of hell, these strong, strange words : 

♦Father Faber. 



GEATITtlDE. 



19 



"Who would lose. 

Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost 
In the wide womb of uncreated night, 
Devoid of sense and motion." 

If, then, existence in the aforesaid instances 
is a boon, what must it not be in our present condi- 
tion, what will it not be if we ultimately attain 
the great end for which we were created f Going 
back some thousands of years we find nothing of 
all that now exists in the visible and invisible 
creation, but God alone. Less than a hundred 
years ago, and not one of us here present had any 
existence at all. If you searched the tops of the 
highest mountains, or scoured the depths of the 
deepest sea, you could not find us. We were noth- 
ing and nowhere. The Almighty in His infinite 
goodness and mercy drew us forth from that abyss 
of nothingness, and gave us being and life. He 
has, moreover, not only brought us into existence, 
but He has endowed us with a mind to know Him 
and a heart to love Him. Are not these incom- 
parable blessings? Why did He create us in lieu 
of the myriads of possible beings that He has left 
in the dark bosom of uncreated night? Why were 
we born in a civilized land and under the ensign 
of a free, enlightened and happy people rather 
than in some less happy country? Would not life 
be precious in any shape or form? Would it not 



20 



IN A NEW WAY. 



have been a valuable favor if God bad made us 
birds of the air, fishes of the sea, or beasts of the 
field? For even these fulfill the end of their exis- 
tence, cling with tenacity to life and recoil with 
horror from death. But God has made us neither 
bird, nor beast; He has formed us to His own im- 
age and likeness. He has created us human beings 
— the noblest of all creatures. ^'What is man,'* 
cries out the royal psalmist, ^ ' that Thou art mind- 
ful of him, or the Son of man that Thou dost visit 
him I Thou hast made him a little less than the 
angels, Thou hast crowned him with glory and 
honor, Thou hast set him over the works of Thy 
hands. ' ' 

See how everything in nature pays us tribute. 
When we sit down to our meals how many lands 
and how many creatures minister to our wants 
and comforts ! The far away countries of China 
and Japan provide us with tea. Arabia and Java 
with coffee, while regions nearer home send us 
sugar and luscious fruits. One animal furnishes 
us -with, meat, another with milk and butter, while 
the sea gives up its fish to contribute to the luxury 
of our board. One field supplies our bread, an- 
other vegetables. Even the bowels of the earth 
are invaded to procure fuel for our fires, silver 
for our tables, iron and other metals for our do- 
mestic utensils. One animal affords covering for 
our hands, another for our feet and still another 



GBATITUDE. 



21 



for our head. The sheep is shorn of its downy 
fleece, the mink and seal of their fur to provide 
us with clothing for our body. And yet how many 
rise, come to and go from their meals, retire to 
rest and repeat the same, day after day, with 
never a thought of thanksgiving to Him to Whom 
they are indebted for every breath they draw and 
every comfort they enjoy.* 

Moreover, creation also implies preservation; 
for not only are we indebted to God for the life 
He has given us but likewise for the continuance 
of the same. Hence, not only are we constrained 
to cry out with the Royal prophet : ^ ' Thy hands, 
0 God, have made me and formed me,'' but with 
the same inspired writer must we add : ' ' If Thou 
turn away Thy face Thy people shall be troubled : 
Thou shalt take away their breath and they shall 
fail and shall return to their dust." 

One other signal and incomparable blessing of 
Almighty God for which we can never sufficiently 
thank Him is that of our vocation to His one only 
true and saving Church. Why is it that we were 
not born amid the darkness of idolatry and error, 
that our lines have fallen in pleasant places and 
not among the countless untutored tribes of 
heathendom that know not their Maker I Wliy, in 
fine, do we here enjoy the blessings of Catholic 
Christianity, while so many others, living in the 

*Cardinal Gibbons.— Our Christian Heritage. 



22 



IN A NEW V/AY. 



very shadow of Jesus in tlie Tabernacle, and who, 
perhaps, would bear the title with greater glory 
to God and more honor to themselves and His 
holy church than we, are left groping in the dark- 
ness of error and infidelity — tossed about by 
every wind of doctrine." In truth, are we not "a 
chosen generation", chosen from millions of others 
that know not God nor His holy church. Surely, 
' ' He hath not done in like manner to every nation 
and His judgments He hath not made manifest to 
them." And yet the carelessness, indifference, 
and little appreciation which so many nominal 
Catholics, m.anifest for their faith, cannot but be 
for every true and sincere member of the church 
a matter of profound pity and deep regret. 

In sweet and consoling contrast to this luke- 
warmness on the part of many, and utter loss of 
faith in an occasional unfortunate, stands out the 
fervor and devotion of many who, though born 
and bred in the darkness of error and heresy, have 
been led through the workings of divine grace to 
the blessed light of the only true and saving faith. 
For it is a fact, to which all who have any ac- 
quaintance thereof must testify, that converts 
from the sects, especially those of learning and 
social standing, make, with a now and then ex- 
ception, very excellent and devoted Catholics. For 
us who have never been strangers to the truth, to 
whom our faith is as dear as the apple of our eye 



GRATITUDE. 



23 



Shakespeare's familiar saying might find a pos- 
sible application: ''The good we seldom miss, we 
rarely prize.'' He who has never enjoyed the rich 
blessing of sight, to whom life has been a blank 
from the cradle, can scarce express Ms transcen- 
dent joy on being admitted to the full and glorious 
vision of day. While ever grateful for the bless- 
ings of the religion we profess and prayerfully 
solicitous for those on whom the beauteous light of 
faith is yet but dimly shining, we should not be 
altogether unmindful of those who are still grop- 
ing in the darkness of error and infidelity, and 
should pray that they, too, may be led to see the 
truth as we see it, and seeing it, may embrace it. 
The words of a distinguished American convert 
voices, I feel, the sentiment of all who like him, 
have come into the ranks of catholic Christianity, 
and I know you will allow me to repeat them : 

''When I remember," he says, "the many 
doubts and misgivings which I felt before my con- 
version, and the fears with which I shrank from 
joining myself to a system which I had long be- 
lieved to be corrupt and horrible, and when I com- 
pare these feelings with the certainty and peace 
and blessedness which I have found since I had 
the grace to make the venture, it seems to me as 
if the change which I have made can be compared 
only to the happy death of the just, from which in 
years gone by they, perhaps, shrank with dread 



24 



A XEW WAY. 



and hardly dared to look forward; but to which 
they forever look back as to their new birth into 
a state blessed beyond all that the heart of man 
can conceive. ''As for myself," he concludes, 
''I need ask nothing else, nor is there anything 
others need ask for me beyond the gTace of perse- 
verance, that having been sought out by the gi'ace 
of my Lord and Savior, and brought into the 
church of His mercy, contrary to my own defects, 
I may endure unto the end, and through the blood 
of my Lord and Savior, may lay hold of eternal 
life." 

''Many and great, 0, Lord," exclaims the gentle 
St. Francis de Sales, "are the blessings Thou hast 
heaped upon me and I thank Thee for them all; 
but how shall I ever be able to thank Thee suffi- 
ciently for enlightening me with Thy holy faith, 
the beauty of which appears to me to be so en- 
chanting that I am dying for love of it, and I 
imagine I ought to enshrine this precious gift in a 
heart all perfumed with devotion. ' ' 

St, Teresa, too, never ceased to thank God for 
having made her a daughter of His holy church ; 
and I earnestly hope and trust that we, also, when 
our career is run and the dim shadows of the grave 
are gathering round us, may be able to say with 
the same great saint: "Thank God, I die a child 
of the church at last." 



GKATITUDE. 25 

The Et. Rev. Edward P. Wadhams, first Bishop 
of the See of Ogdensburg, New York, seemed to 
have an especial liking for the ejaeulatory prayer, 
**Deo Gratias." He so familiarized himself with 
it during life, that it seemed to come spontaneous- 
ly to his lips after the discharge of almost every 
action and episcopal function. The Eev. Clarence 
.Walworth in his ' ' Reminiscences of the First Bish- 
op of Ogdensburg^* mentions that, '^when this 
truly Apostolic man was on his death-bed, he 
caused the profession of faith according to the 
formula of Pope Pius IV to be read to him in 
Latin. When the last words were said a bright 
smile overcame the bishop's face, as he piously 
said, ^^Deo Gratias.'' 

Father Didacus, the celebrated Jesuit Mis- 
sionary, who for his burning zeal in behalf of that 
country has been justly styled the Apostle of Peru, 
said four hundred times and often six hundred 
times a day, * * My God I thank Thee. ' ' 

St. Felix of Cantalico who, from the spirit of 
incessant gratitude that characterized his lowly 
life, was lovingly called Brother ^^Deo Gratias", 
when worn out with long years of service, turned 
to the brethren that surrounded his dying bed, 
and begged them to say with him and for him, for 
the last time on earth, ^^Deo Gratias." And so 
with the old familiar words on his lips he passed 
into the Blessed Beyond. 



26 



IN A NEW WAY. 



St, Lawrence gave thanks to God from the grid- 
iron on which he was roasted for his faith. And 
St. Cyprian, on hearing the sentence of death, 
cried aloud, '^Deo Gratias" — Thanks be to God. 

Apart from these incalculable gifts which we 
have been considering, and which we all enjoy in 
common, each, upon self-examination must find 
that he himself is the recipient of some special 
blessing from the hand of his heavenly Father. 
One will recognize it in the peace, plenty and hap- 
piness of a cozy fireside, another, in the continual 
enjoyment of good health; and a third, even in the 
midst of the very crosses and privations that an 
all-wise Providence sees fit to send him. Bear al- 
ways in mind the golden advice of the great Apos- 
tle of the Gentiles: *'In all things give thanks 
and never consent to rank yourselves in the cate- 
gory of those who are ever and always repining 
at their condition; who spend their mornings in 
anticipating their afternoons, and their after- 
noons in regretting their mornings ; and who sel- 
dom or never, grateful for what they have, are 
continually longing for what they have not. Learn, 
too, from the prophet David, to give thanks in 
every thing. Every furrow in the Book of Psalms 
is sown with seeds of thanksgiving. Gratitude is 
the tune of the Angels. A necessary, a glorious, 
nn obvious, and withal so easy a virtue, that there 
is none who can not say, with the Bard of Avon: 



GRATITUDE. 



27 



^ ' Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks, but 
I thank you.'^ 

Let your appreciation of God's benefits mani- 
fest itself in your loyalty and fidelity in His serv- 
ice, and never go forth from your homes in the 
morning without first prostrating yourselves be- 
fore Him to thank Him for His gracious protec- 
tion during the night, and at night in turn offer 
Him your grateful acknowledgments for the grace 
and the benefits of the day. 

Finally, let that beautiful and significant chris- 
tian sentence, Thanks be to God" which was al- 
ways in the hearts and often on the lips of the 
saints, be dear to you also. Saint Augustine says 
there is no prayer more pleasing than Thanks 
be to God.'* If there is, it is surely that other 
which so well expresses the warm gratitude of the 
Celtic heart and which they tell us sounds so 
sweetly in the fading language of old Erin ; ^ ^ Mil- 
lions of praises unto God/' 



lEttil diommtttttrattnttfi ^avvnpt 



^'Be not deceived, evil communications corrupt 
good morals.'^ — I Corinthians XV-33. 



EVIL COMMUNICATIONS. 



An artist once painted a picture of a child whom 
he had seen at prayer. He called the picture ^ ^ In- 
nocence'* and hung it on the wall of his studio 
where, for many a year, it was admired by all who 
saw it. When he was an old man he resolved, be- 
fore laying aside the easel and the brush, to paint 
a companion picture and call it Guilt. '* He vis- 
ited a prison and asked to see the most hardened 
criminal there. A degraded wretch was shown 
him; and, while he was sketching the picture, he 
talked with the man, and found, to his horror, that 
he was the same he had painted as a child. Evil 
company had brought him to this end. 

Every human being is an artist; but oK, what 
poor, wretched work, some do turn out. Every 
one of us has a picture to paint. The world is our 
studio ; time is the canvas ; the materials are our 
own flesh and blood and bones; and the colors we 
use all through the years, are generally those that 
we handle in the beginning. We sleep it is true, 
but the brush and the hand that wields it never 
rest ; and the picture we are painting when the sun 



32 



m A NEW WAY. 



goes down to-night, we will work at again when it 
comes up to-morrow. A lifetime is given us for 
the accomplishment of our task ; the materials we 
carry with us to use them as we will, till the dawn 
of that eventful day when our picture, full drawn 
and finished, the Master Artist under Whose eye 
we have been painting, and of Whose presence 
we have not always been mindful, shall lift the 
veil, and, disclosing to us the lights and shades 
of the picture, shall pronounce judgment upon the 
merits or demerits of our work. Do you think the 
story of the picture that the artist painted is an 
overdrawn or fictitious one? No, it is not. It is a 
picture that is being reproduced and set in actual, 
living framework, every day that passes. I have 
heard it said that it is characteristic of every 
mother to consider her own baby the sweetest and 
loveliest baby in the whole world ; and, I think you 
can pay a man no higher compliment, than to tell 
him that, as a baby, or as a child, he was very 
pretty. If you have ever watched, and certainly 
you must have at some time, the varied antics, ex- 
pressions and effusive emotions of the mother, 
you will find that there is something in what I say. 
It is well for us that we are born babies in intel- 
lect. Could we understand half what mothers say 
and do to their infants, we should be filled with a 
conceit of our own importance that would render 
us insupportable through life. See that mother 



EVIL COMMUNICATIONS. 



33 



as slie dandles and fondles and hoists baby in the 
air, and presses it to her bosom, and smothers it 
with kisses, all the while meeting its smiles or its 
tears with the fondest assurance that it is the 
sweetest, the loveliest, the best little baby that ever 
was. How ready she is to catch its breathing soft 
and low; to hear its slightest movement or its 
faintest cough! How many sleepless nights and 
weary days pass over her head as she watches the 
young limbs develop, and how happy is she when 
she sees baby wax strong and grow daily in health. 
And then school days come on, all so soon, and the 
little ones come home 

"Trooping, crowding, big and small. 
On the threshold, in the hall — 
Joining in the constant cry, 
Ever as the days go by, 
'Where's mother?' 

Yes, Where's mother?— 

Burdened with a lonely task, 
Some day child or man may ask 
For the comfort of her face, 
For the rest of her embrace. 
Children, love her while you may, 
Some day you may vainly say, 
Where's mother?" 

And school days pass away and the trying times 
of youth and prime follow and baby passes into 
the statutory years of manhood or womanhood, 
and goes forth into the great world where : 



34 



IN A NEW WAY. 



"The man may wander so far away, 
'Twere better the boy had died; 
The girl, on sin's voluptuous surges tossed. 
May perish in Passion's tide;" 

At any rate quite certain it is that, it will always 
be a pleasure for mother to remember, boy or girl, 
as a once innocent, sweet-faced child. Man, as we 
know, was created and placed in this world to 
labor for a higher and better state of existence. 
Very early in life his faculties begin to unfold; 
and then it is that those mighty energies which are 
to bear him forward to unending ages, begin to 
discover themselves. To enable him the better 
to fulfill his duties here, and to stand on high van- 
tage ground when he leaves this cradle of his be- 
ing for an eternal existence beyond the grave, 
should be the end of every organization and the 
aim and purpose of all companionship. We know, 
moreover, that man was not created to live alone ; 
he is essentially a social being; and, in the midst 
of the loudest vauntings of philosophy, nature has 
her yearnings for society and friendship. The 
heart of every good man wants something to be 
kind to, and the best part of his blood, and the 
purest of his spirits, suffer most under destitu- 
tion. Not only is man a social being, but he is an 
imitative one as well. We learn by imitation, far 
more than by precept ; and, what we do learn thus, 
we acquire, not only more effectually, but more 
pleasantly. Man, in fact, is something of a chame- 



EVIL COMMUNICATIONS. 



35 



leon taking his hue, the hue of his moral nature, 
from those around him. The old Latin adage 
^' Verba docent, exempla trahunf — Words teach, 
but examples draw, is as true now as ever. Not 
the cry, but the flight of a wild bird says a 
Chinese author, leads the flock to follow. We 
some times hear the father who remains away 
from mass on Sundays say, in justification of 
his conduct, "I do not go to mass myself, 
but I always send my children. Yes, but 
do you not know, foolish father, that the chil- 
dren are apt to do precisely the same as soon 
as they cut loose from the parental apron strings! 
There is a popular story told of an artist whose 
whole life was influenced by a little print of a 
Eaphael Madonna that hung on the wall of the 
old home nursery. Is it not thus with most of us? 
Looking back to that sweet time can we not recall 
perhaps, some simple influence that swayed our 
whole lives, for weal or woe, for good or ill. Does 
it ever occur to you that very probably you are 
exerting an unconscious influence upon those 
around you! Let me illustrate: You know that 
the portion of this great country, originally styled 
''New England'', was in early days, remarkable 
for bigotry and prejudice. In an obscure coun- 
try town of this section there once lived a young 
man, the son of a Protestant merchant ; and every 
morning, when on his way to work, he used to meet 



36 



IN A NEW WAY. 



a little lad of some ten years or so, the son of a 
laborer. A nodding acquaintance sprung up be- 
tween them; and, now and then, a remark was 
passed. Finally, one very cold winter morning, 
when the snow was knee-deep, and travelling was 
almost impossible, the young man, surprised at 
meeting his little friend out on such a disagreeable 
day, ventured to ask him where he was going so 
regularly every morning, regardless of the weath- 
er or the season; and this was the simple, boyish 
answer he received: ^^I'm going to serve Father 
John's mass/' ^^Oh,'' exclaimed the young man, 
somewhat confusedly, ^ Agoing to serve Father 
John's mass, eh!" and, as he pushed on through 
the drifts of snow, the little fellow's answer kept 
ringing in his ears. What did the little fellow 
mean by ''serving mass." The seed of enquiry 
had been sown, and had fallen on good ground; 
for, the young man shortly after, sought instruc- 
tion, was baptized in the Catholic Faith, and gi^dng 
up home and friends, consecrated his life to that 
God whom he had learned to know and love 
through the unconscious influence which that little 
Altar-boy had exerted over him by his remark 
about serving mass. 

In the plastic days of childhood everything 
makes an impression for good or for evil. Youth, 
like white paper, takes any impression. It is the 
formative period of life. 



EVIL COMMUmCATIOT^S. 



37 



Environment does not create character, but it 
helps or hinders its growth. It is the old, old 
story of example and precept. ^ * The child, ' ' says 
Wordsworth, ''is father to the man." He is an 
imitator. He listens to the scolding, but he fol- 
lows the parental habit. What the child, what the 
young man, what the young woman requires, is a 
model, rather than a critic. Environment in- 
cludes the example of the people at home; their 
likes and their dislikes; their refinement or their 
vulgarity; their religious enthusiasm, or their 
brutal indifference to the needs of the soul. Your 
children, in fine, are apt to think that what you 
do is right. They have no other ideal of truth or 
righteousness but yourselves. They reason this 
way : Father always does right. Father did this ; 
therefore, this is right. No one ever gets over 
having a bad example set him. Your conduct, 
more than your teaching, makes impression. Your 
laugh^ your frown, your dresss, your walk, your 
coming in and your going out, your habits at the 
table, the tone of your voice, are all making an 
impression that may last long after you are dead. 
And the sun will be extinguished, and the moun- 
tains will crumble, and the world will die, and 
eternity will roll on in perpetual cycles ; but there 
will be no diminution of the force of your conduct 
on the young eyes that saw it, or the young ears 
that heard it. We are naturally led to assum.e 



38 



m A NEW WAY. 



that, among those that associate there is a certain 
sympathy of taste, of character and of disposi- 
tion. — Yon know the old adage: ''Birds of a 
feather flock together" or, as modern parody 
phrases it: "Birds of a feather go by them- 
selves" — and, on this principle is founded that 
solidarity which is the characteristic of every so- 
ciety, by which the whole body becomes honored 
by the virtuous actions, or disgraced by the trans- 
gressions of the individual members. Now, a well 
man in the wards of an hospital, surrounded by 
hundreds that are dying of fever, will not be so 
apt to contract the disease as a good man or boy 
would be apt to be smitten with moral disease if 
shut up with iniquitous companions. In our busi- 
ness relations we may sometimes, of course, find 
ourselves obliged to talk to, and even to mingle 
with bad men ; but he who deliberately chooses to 
associate with vicious characters is carrying on a 
courtship with a Delilah whose shears will clip off 
all the locks of his strength and, sooner or later, 
he will be tripped into perdition. You may boast 
of your strength of character, but go with the cor- 
rupt and you will become corrupt ; clan with burg- 
lars and you will become a burglar ; live among the 
unclean, and you, too, will become unclean. 

Do not asscioate with the lad — young or old — 
who puts his fingers in his vest and laughs at your 
old fashioned religion ; who tells you that he used 



EVIL COMMUNICATIONS. 



39 



to believe what father and mother taught him, but 
he has got over that now. Yes, he has got over it ; 
and, if you remain very long in his company you 
will get over it too. Allow a bad man to talk fa- 
miliarly with you, give him a place at your table 
to rant in presence of your sons and daughters 
against the faith that he has not the courage to 
live up to; permit your home, the one place on 
earth where religion and piety ought to be nur- 
tured and fostered, to become the rendevouz for 
a few conceited and bad minded individuals to run 
down and caricature all that the centuries have 
held sacred, and need you be at all surprised if 
you see your sons and daughters no better than 
the scoffer you bring to your home? Without 
presenting one single argument against the reli- 
gion of Jesus Christ or the Church that He com- 
mands us under pain of eternal separation from 
Him to hear, the scoffer will destroy your respect 
for that religion that was the strength of your 
father in his declining years, and the pillow of 
your good old mother on her dying day. 

A distinguished English, non-Catholic clergy- 
man, shows by an example how much good even 
young people may do when they stand by the prin- 
ciples of right and duty. He says that, many 
years ago, in one of the largest non-Catholic col- 
leges in England, no boy in the spacious dormitor- 
ies of the institution even dared to say his prayers. 



40 



IX A In'EW way. 



One day a new boy, neither strong, nor distin- 
guislied, nor influential, nor of high rank, came to 
the college. The first night the new boy slept in 
his dormitory not one boy knelt to say his prayers. 
Bnt the new boy knelt as he had always done. He 
was jeered at, insulted, pelted, kicked for it; and 
so he was the next night, and the next. But, after 
a night or two, not only did the persecutors cease, 
but another boy knelt down as well as himself; 
and then another, until it became the custom for 
every boy to kneel nightly at the altar of his own 
bedside. From that dormitory, the custom spread 
to other dormitories, one by one. When that new 
bo}" came to the school, no boy said his prayers; 
when he left, without one act or word on his part, 
beyond the silent influence of a quiet and brave 
example, all the boys said their prayers. The 
right act had prevailed against the bad custom and 
the blind cowardice of that little world. So will it 
be with you. If you stand steadfast against 
wrong, you may start an influence for good that 
will change the whole current of the society in 
which you move. The trouble witJi most people is, 
not that they willfully and persistently, do wrong, 
l)ut that they are weak, and their weakness often 
euds in wickedness. They are surrounded by 
temptations and yield to them. It is more easy to 
follow the crowd, than to go against it. The words 
that a father speaks to his children in the privacy 



EVIL COMMUJIICATIONS. 



41 



of borne are not heard by the world; but, as in 
whispering-galleries, sounds are clearly heard at 
the end, so too are his words heard by posterity. 
There is no action of man which is not the begin- 
ning of such a long chain of consequences, that 
no human providence is high enough to give us a 
prospect of the end. 

All are familiar, surely, with the story told of 
the father who took his boy to the banquet, given 
by some of his friends. When the waiter, in mak- 
ing his rounds, came to the boy he said : ' ' Well, 
my little man, what will you take''? ^'I'U take 
what father takes'', replied the youth. The father 
immediately recognized his responsibility; and, 
being equal to the situation, said : ' ' Waiter, bring 
me a glass of water." Still better, may be, the 
following story: A gentleman had occasion to 
take a walk early one morning, after a light fall of 
snow. He met a fine young man, who was the 
father of a bright eight year old boy. A little 
farther along, he saw the boy coming and looking 
intently on the ground, and acting rather strange- 
ly. Upon approaching him, the boy looked up 
beamingly, and, pointing to the ground, said: 

There's my father's tracks." And, then, he con- 
tinued on with long strides in his father's foot- 
steps. Would that all fathers could fully realize 
the significant import of these childish sayings! 
Would, that the footprints which all fathers are 



42 



IN A NEW WAY. 



leaving on the sands of time were those in which 
they would be glad to have their children follow. 
Precept, in truth, is instruction written on the 
sand ; the tide flows over it, and the record is gone. 
Example is graven on the rock and is not so soon 
lost. People look at you six days in the week to 
see what you mean on the seventh. Be, therefore, 
always a pattern to others, and then all will be 
well. 

The Holy Ghost, speaking through the mouth of 
the great Apostle Saint Paul, admonishes us of 
the importance of wisely choosing our companions 
and of associating only with those who help us to 
advance in piety and the love of virtue. Be- 
ware/' says the Apostle, ^*of mingling with people 
who lead sinful lives.'' ^'I have written to you, 
not to keep company, if any man that is named a 
brother be a fornicator, or covetous, or a server 
of idols, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extor- 
tioner; with such an one not so much as to eat." 
I Cor. V — II. But it is chiefly in his epistles to 
his beloved disciples Titus and Timothy, that 
Saint Paul insists upon this counsel. ^'Shun," he 
says, ^'profane and vain babblings." II Timothy 
II — 16. *'Know also this that, in the last days, 
shall come on dangerous times. Men shall be lov- 
ers of themselves, covetous, haughty, proud, blas- 
phemous, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, 
wicked, without affection, without peace, slander- 



EVn^ COMMUinCATIONS. 



43 



ers, * * * traitors, stubborn, puffed up and lovers 
of themselves more than of God: Having an 
appearance indeed of godliness, but denying the 
power thereof. Now these avoid." II Tim. Ill 
1—6. 

It is a fact confirmed by Divine Truth Himself 
that like generally begets like. ''All flesh shall 
consort with the like to itself and every man shall 
associate himself to his like.'' ''If the wolf shall 
at any time have fellowship with the lamb, so the 
sinner with the just. ' ' Ecc. XIII. 20. Hence the 
necessity for young people particularly, to avoid 
the company of such as are addicted to levity or 
vice and hence, also, the absolute necessity of 
choosing virtuous companions in order that their 
example may serve as a light to guide inexperi- 
enced footsteps along the thorny path of life. Pa- 
rents, of course, may advise ; pastors may exhort ; 
but you will never rise above the level of the com- 
pany you keep. Tell me those with whom you as- 
sociate and I will tell you what you are. ' ' Might 
I give counsel to any of my young readers'', says 
the great novelist, William Thackeray, ' ' I would 
say to him : Try to frequent the company of your 
betters. In books and life is the most wholesome 
society. Learn to admire rightly : note what great 
and good men admired. They admired great 
things ; narrow spirits admire basely, and worship 
meanly." Lord Chesterfield's advice to his son 



44 



IN A NEW WAY. 



was along similar lines : ^ ^ Choose, ' ^ said he, ^ * the 
company of your superiors whenever you can 
have it, for no man can possibly improve in any 
company for which he has not respect enough to 
be under some degree of restraint/^ You remem- 
ber that oft-quoted line of Thomas Moore, Ire- 
land's sweetest poet, of the vase that holds a bou- 
quet of fragrant flowers. 

•'You may break, you may crush the vase, if you will 
But the scent of the roses, will hang round it still." 

In a sinister sense it is ever thus of evil associa- 
tions. Your bad companion will pass away, and 
his very name may be forgotten, but his words 
and his influence will cleave to your soul to worry 
it to destruction, long after he who gave it is gone. 
Many a man and many a woman, too, can truth- 
fully say with that sad but gifted son of genius — 
Lord Byron: 

"The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree 
I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed: 
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a 
seed." 

You remember how an imprudent and danger- 
ous conversation with the serpent in Paradise, led 
to the commission of the first sin on earth. Had 
our first parent. Eve, fled at once, instead of re- 
maining near the forbidden tree to talk with her 
deceiver, she would not have fallen into sin. When 
the evil spirit perceives the good and innocent 
mingling with evil companions he rejoices in an- 



EVIL COMMUNICATIONS. 



45 



Ucipation of an early and easy victory. The wily 
enemy of our salvation knows full well that they 
who engage in nefarious designs miserably de- 
ceive themselves when they think they will go so 
far and no farther. One fault begets another, one 
crime follows another, and thus they are impelled 
continually downward into a depth of guilt, which 
at the commencement of their career they would 
have died rather than have incurred. Know, more- 
over, that the evil consequences of a crime long 
survive its commission ; and, like the ghosts of the 
murdered, forever haunt the steps of the male- 
factor. Think not that the guilty require the burn- 
ing torches of the Furies to agitate and torment 
them. Their own frauds, their crimes, their re- 
membrances of the past, their terrors of the fu- 
ture, these are the domestic furies that are ever 
present to the mind of the impious. It is a truth 
from heaven that *^he who loves the danger shall 
perish in it.'' The devil who goeth about like a 
roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, is ex- 
ceedingly crafty and very soon spies out in a 
man's character the weak spots towards which 
he can point his poisoned arrow of temptation. 
At first he is content to wound but slightly the ill- 
fated victim whom he chooses for his prey. At 
first he leads him into the commission of venial 
sins. The first nets that he throws out consist of 
hair-like threads, so thin as to be hardly visible. 



46 



m A NEW WAY. 



If he can succeed in holding his prey merely by the 
tip of his little finger, the treacherous demon \rill 
soon grasp the whole hand, and then drag Mm 
body and soul into the bondage of sin. 

"Resist beginnings, then, all too late the cure 
Vv^hen ills have gathered strength by long delay." 

Go not about with a man of evil passions, sscyis 
the inspired writer, and dwell not with those who 
work iniquity. ^'With the holy thou wilt become 
holy/' declares the Psalmist, ^'and with the impi- 
ous and godless thou wilt become impious and god- 
less." When we live habitually with the wicked 
we become necessarily their victim or their dis- 
ciple. When we associate, on the contrary, with 
virtuous men, we form ourselves in imitation of 
their virtues ; or, at least, we lose, every day, some- 
thing of our faults. No company, in fact, is far 
preferable to bad company because we are far 
more apt to catch the vices of others than their 
virtues, as disease is far more contagious than 
health. Saint Augustine says that bad company 
is like a nail driven into a post, which after the 
first or second blow, may be drawn out with little 
difficulty; but being once driven up to the head, 
the pincers cannot take hold to draw it out, but 
this can only be done by the destruction of the 
wood. 

Whatever may be a man's disposition for good 
or for evil when left to himself, he will never 



EVIL COMMUNICATIONS. 



47 



reach that degree of goodness or wickedness that 
he oould under the influence of others. The stage 
of virtue or vice which he reaches is due in a great 
measure to his associations. 

He may be educated to the highest degree, he 
may have the disposition to become a saint; he 
may daily fortify himself with the strongest reso- 
lutions against vice, if without necessity he fre- 
quent the company of persons disposed to evil 
he will ere long become a pervert. Know, how- 
ever, that it is not alone the bold and blatant 
profligate that we must avoid; for those who decry, 
openly and publicly, against religion and moral- 
ity, will so completely disgust you that you will 
be only too willing and too ready to eschew their 
company and turn your back upon them at once. 

"For vice is a monster of such frightful mein, 
That to be hated needs but to be seen." 

But there are siren voices, cunning tempters, 
veiled hypocrites, who are too cautious and too 
wary to induce others to sin directly and without 
disguise. They, therefore, slowly and gradually 
instil the poison of unchristian thought, till the 
young heart is suddenly and unexpectedly drawn 
into the meshes of sin, almost before it has become 
aware of sin*s presence; the evil companion that 
the boy or girl would not avoid has, by little and 
little, robbed them of their esteem and love for 



48 



IN A NEW WAY. 



virtue. Thus it is that the delicate flower of iimo- 
ceuce is lost; and when once lost, it is "asnallj lost 
forever. 

Eemember the story of the picture of the child 
at prayer, for it is like him we all begin, however 
our after-work may turn out. Every human coun- 
tenance is either a history or a prophecy. But, 
when we look into the faces of some of the charac- 
ters that live around us, and see the meanness and 
the sensuality that imbrute them, it is hard for us 
to see in them the faces of once innocent children. 
For all of us, as must be expected, the years are 
leaving traces on the canvas; the lines are grad- 
ually fading out, and the figures that stood in the 
background, for most of us, are gone. But the 
picture we can never cease to admire ; and, I ven- 
ture to say, that, of all the pictures that hang on 
memory's walls, this one seemeth the best of all. 
It speaks to us of childhood's home and its cher- 
ished connections; of mother and her wise and 
holy counsels ; and of that sweet time when heaven 
smiled about us. 

Fathers and mothers keep this picture always 
before your eyes and often study it in the little 
ones growing up around you. Be ever gentle with 
the children God has given you ; watch over them 
constantly, reprove them earnestly, but not in 
anger. Be vigilant over them in the dawn of their 
understanding, lest the after-frosts nip their bios- 



EVIL COMMUNICATIONS. 



49 



soms. Whilst they are tender twigs straighten 
them; whilst they are new vessels, season them; 
for such as thou makest them, such, commonly, 
shalt thou find them. When those little forms that 
are now so bright and beautiful shall be scattered 
in the dust, their immortal spirits will live on in a 
grander theater of action, and your faithfulness 
or neglect is now deciding their destiny. Be no 
less watchful over the children of a larger growth 
— the boys and girls budding into manhood and 
womanhood. Warn them against the dangers of 
the saloon, the dance hall, and the ubiquitous al- 
lurements and seductive pleasures of this wicked 
age. Know where they are at night fall, who their 
associates are, and then you will know what they 
are themselves. Teach them to cherish virtue; 
to revere and respect religion and its ministers; 
and to love their Church and live according to its 
teachings. In your prayers often commend them 
to the tender care of Him Who forgives and pities 
all alike; and, above all, so live yourselves, that 
you may be a light to their path and a guide to 
their feet and you will be doubly blessed in the 
sweet assurance of God^s love. 



Kind hearts are more than coronets. — Tennyson. 
Kindness is nobler than revenge. — Shakespeare. 



KINDNESS. 



We read in the ninth chapter of the Acts of the 
Apostles that, when Saint Peter, Prince of the 
Apostles, traversed the Holy Land, preaching and 
working miracles, he came in the course of his 
journeyings to a certain town called Lydda. 
There lived in another town called Joppa, hard 
by, a certain christian lady whose life was full of 
piety and good works. *^And it came to pass in 
those days," says the narrative, ^^that she fell sick 
and died.'' Now the disciples, hearing that Saint 
Peter was in the neighborhood, despatched mes- 
sengers, requesting him to come to them without 
delay. He immediately acceded to their request, 
and was conducted, on his arrival in the town, to 
the house of the deceased. All at once, the widows 
and the befriended poor gathered around the 
Saint, and, with wails and moans, began to show 
him the coats and garments which the kind-heart- 
ed lady had made for them. The narrative ends 
thus: **And Peter kneeling down prayed: and 
turning to the body he said : Tabitha, arise. And 
she opened her eyes: and seeing Peter, she sat' 



54 



IN A NEW WAY. 



up. And giving lier liis liand, lie lifted lier up." 
While we humbly adore the wonderful power of 
God, displayed in the miracle wrought at the 
prayer of His servant, we are, at the same time, 
constrained to admire the high appreciation of the 
widow's kindness on the part of these poor people. 
Indeed, there is no class of people in the world 
more universally beloved, or more generally 
sought after, than the kind-hearted. When we 
hear a person assert that such or such a person is 
kind-hearted we at once picture to ourselves one 
who is gentle, affable and magnanimous ; one pos- 
sessed of qualities, which, when combined make a 
truly generous soul. Take for example, the case 
of a little child, place him under the tutelage of 
two persons, one of whom has a sour, surly dispo- 
sition; who never allows the young one anything 
for which its childish fancy craves ; or, if disposed 
to gratify its desires, does so in such a manner as 
to deprive the child of the innocent gratification 
arising therefrom. The other, on the contrary, 
has a most agreeable and lovable disposition, and 
will do all in his power to render the child happy 
by granting its every legitimate wish with as 
much cheerfulness and alacrity as possible. To 
which of these two think you the affections of that 
child will adhere? In whom will the child have 
the greater confidence? Most assuredly in the 
latter. Now what is here said of the child, holds 



KINDNESS. 



55 



good for the man, also. For what, after all, are 
men but children of a larger growth? We are all 
children in some respects, and in this particular 
respect, we all find ourselves on an equality : We 
like, and do appreciate kindness. Suppose we 
consider then for a moment or two and try to get 
some idea of what kindness is in itself, and of its 
effects both upon ourselves and upon others. 

Kindness is the overflowing of self upon others. 
It is putting others in the place of self ; we treat 
them as we would wish to be treated ourselves. 
For the time being, self is another and others are 
self. It is the literal application of the golden 
rule that was taught us in our childhood: ^^Do 
unto others, as you would that others should do 
unto you.'^ Who does not know that the worst 
kind of unliappiness, as well as the greatest 
amount of it, comes from our conduct towards 
one another. If our conduct were always under 
the dominion of kindness, the world would be 
pretty much the reverse of what it is, and so the 
state of things would be vastly different. We are 
for the most part unhappy, because the world is 
an unkind world. Yet the Creator certainly meant 
the world to be a happy one.* 

The chief effect of kindness, then, is that it rend- 
ers us more contented and happy, and makes life 
itself more pleasant and endurable. We all grow 

•Adapted from Father Faber's Conferences on Kindness. 



66 



m A NEW WAY. 



weary, combating the realities of life. The rough 
schoolboy flees in a rage from the taunts of his 
companions to find refuge in a mother's smile. 
The little one, full of grief with its own large 
trouble, finds a haven of rest on its mother's 
breast ; and so with all of us. The burden of life 
presses heavily at times upon multitudes of the 
children of men. It is, oftentimes, a yoke of such 
a peculiar nature that, familiarity, instead of 
practically lightening it, only makes it the harder 
to endure. 

There are thousands to whom life is always ap- 
proaching the unbearable. More than one has, 
vainly and foolishly, sought refuge from the strug- 
gle in self-destruction ; while its burdens and cares 
have driven numbers to hopeless insanity. Again, 
kindness is a solace for the ills of life ; and, besides 
largely promoting our own happiness, adds very 
considerably to the peace and happiness of others, 
and encourages them in their efforts after good 
And, do we not all feel the need of encouragement 
at times! The path of virtue, even when it is 
not up hill, is rough and thorny, and each day's 
journey is a little longer than our strength admits. 
Alas ! how many noble hearts have sunk under the 
trying realities of life. How many plans for God's 
glory have fallen to the ground, which a bright 
look or a kind eye would have propped up? A 
kind act has picked up many a fallen man who 



KINDNESS. 



57 



lias afterwards slain his thousands and his tens 
of thousands for his Lord, and has entered the 
heavenly city at last as a conqueror, amidst the 
acclamations of the saints and the welcome of His 
Sovereign. 

Criminals, whose hearts had become steeled to 
all human sensibilities, either through the frequent 
commission of heinous crimes, total depravity, or 
both, have become as gentle as lambs, through the 
mollifying influence of the kind, the generous and 
the true. Many a sailor on life's rough sea has 
been encouraged, cheered, and, finally, saved, by a 
single act of kindness. 

Is a comrade discouraged? Do his feet fail and 
his hands grow weary! A cheering word, a loving 
service, a friendly suggestion, born of the desire 
to aid and uplift, will revive him like sparkling 
water in the desert heat. Such little deeds cost 
nothing; but, not all the gold and diamonds you 
could pack into your bundle, would match them for 
solace on the long and dusty march that stretches 
out for each one of us between the cradle and 
the grave. ' ^ One little clover is not much, surely, 
for June to boast of; but, remember, from that 
single blossom full of seeds, each wind that blows 
scatters a thousand embryo blossoms, which, in 
glorious company, shall beautify the meadows and 
fill the summer fields with sweetness. If every 
single clover should refuse to blow because of its 



58 



IN A NEW WAY. 



individual insignificance, wliat would become of 
all that ravishing perfume that makes a June 
morning so charmingly delightful. Let us see to 
it then that we fail in no deed of helpful, thought- 
ful kindness, merely because it seems so small a 
thing. Each day, if it brings forth only one un- 
selfish deed, will soon add to itself other days 
which, in time, will enrich and sweeten both our 
own and other lives."* 

Some one has said, and said truly, that ^^A fel- 
low feeling makes us wondrous kind. ' ' And, sure- 
ly, as the days go by, they afford us many and 
varied opportunities for the exercise of kindness. 
We live in a world that is full of poverty and suf- 
fering, ignorance and misery; and, the plain duty 
of all of us is, to try to make the little corner that 
he can influence, somewhat less miserable and 
somewhat less ignorant than it was before we en- 
tered it. And yet, there are thousands of men; 
and you know some of them and so do I, that 
breathe, and move, and live, pass off the stage of 
life, and are heard of no more. AYhy? Because 
they never did a particle of good in the world. 
None were ever blessed by them; none could ever 
point to them as the instrument of their redemp- 
tion. Not a line they wrote breathed kindness, 
not a word they ever uttered could recall it, and so 
they perished; their light went out in the darkness 
*Amber. 



KINDNESS. 



59 



and they were not remembered more than the in- 
sects of yesterday. 

It will be always true, of course, that kindness 
will sometimes meet with an unworthy, an un- 
grateful return; but the absence of gratitude on 
the part of the receiver cannot destroy the self- 
approbation which recompenses the giver. SomiO 
of the seeds of kindness that we scatter around 
us will inevitably fall on good ground and grow 
up into benevolence in the minds of others, and 
all of them will bear fruit of happiness in the 
bosom whence they spring. 

While recommending you to be kind at all 
times and to all, I would especially insist on its 
practice towards children, the aged and the poor. 
Bear in mind, that the boys and girls of to-day 
will be the men and women of to-morrow, and 
that they will, in all probability, carry with them 
to the grave the recollection of their childish sor- 
rows and the indifference and neglect of which 
they were the object in their early years. It was 
the poet. Burns, who said, and said truly: Man's 
inhumanity to man makes countless thousands 
mourn. Indeed, the inhumanities and outrages 
practiced upon children by witless parents are 
really heartrending. If they treated their flower 
beds as they do their children, there would not be 
a blossom left in their gardens. Now and then, 
we meet a wise mother and a sensible father ; but 



60 



m A NEW WAY. 



the great majority of parents receive their chil- 
dren as the youngsters receive their Christmas 
toys, to be played with when in good hmnor, but 
bundled anywhere, when out of sorts or engrossed 
with more important matters. There are many 
sides to a child's character; and too many parents 
lose sight of the fact that, a little child's sense of 
injustice and sorrow and wrong, is compatible 
with its own growth and experience, rather than 
their own. What to the parent seems but a paltry 
trial, is the cause of keenest, unalloyed woe to the 
child of five or six. The possession of uncounted 
gold at forty, will not be more precious than the 
possession at four, of the toy or the book you so 
rudely snatch from the little hands without a word 
of apology. Instead of sending him off with a 
clip or a cuff, take the time to explain to the little 
fellow, why you deprive him of some cherished 
possession, and you will save the tender bit of a 
heart a vast amount of unnecessary aching.''** 
On no account whatever ignore the disposition of 
your children to investigate. Help them to under- 
stand things; teach them to know what they are 
about. A proper amount of confidence, and words 
of encouragement and advice, will do more, and go 
a great deal farther with them, than any amount 
of harshness and severity. 
And then the aged, to whom life, at best, is but 

**Amber. 



KINDNESS, 



61 



a wintry day, be kind to them, also : try to render 
their declining years peaceful and happy. Give 
father and mother, and grandfather and grand- 
mother, if you have them with you, the cosiest 
place at your fireside, and the best and choicest of 
your table. Not so much as once make them 
think, much less, make them feel, that they are 
in the way, or that you do not want them around. 
Would you know the answer that a certain young 
fellow gave, when asked if the boys of the home 
started the fire for the old folks in the morning? 
''Oh, no, he replied, we let the old folks do that 
themselves; we want to wear them out first, you 
know." Take care, young man, God sometimes 
works in a mysterious way. These thoughts will 
take a deeper root within you, if you reflect, for a 
moment, on the strange sympathy that exists be- 
tween the two extremes of life — childhood and 
age. How intuitively in age, remarks Charles 
Dickens, we go back with a longing fondness to 
all that is fresh in the earliest dawn of youth. If 
we never cared for little children before, we de- 
light to see them roll on the grass over which we 
hobble on crutches. The grandsire turns, wearily, 
from the middle-aged care-worn son, to listen with 
infant laugh to the prattle of an infant grandchild. 
It is the old who plant young trees; it is the old 
who are most saddened by the approach of winter 
and who feel most delight in the coming spring. 



62 



IN A NEW WAY. 



Finally, be kind to tlie deserving poor, that por- 
tion of liumanity that the Saviour has declared 
will be always with us. Give them, at least, a 
kindly eye and a sympathetic voice. A helping 
hand to one in trouble is often like a switch on a 
railroad track, but one inch between wreck and 
smooth-rolling prosperity. Sympathy, in fact, for 
the deserving poor and the afflicted, is the first 
great lesson that man should learn ; and, nothing 
is more odious than that cold-hearted insensibility 
that wraps a man up in himself and his own con- 
cerns, and prevents his being moved with either 
the joys or the sorrows of others. On the other 
hand, to be full of goodness and kindness and help- 
ful hope, towards the down-trodden and the af- 
flicted, causes a man to carry blessings of which 
he himself is as unconscious, as a lamp is of its 
own light. 

The aged Tobias, one of the most lovable char- 
acters in Holy Writ, understood this well, and em- 
bodied it in the dying advice he gave his son: 
* ' My son, all the days of thy life, have God in thy 
mind; and take heed that thou never consent to 
sin, nor transgress the commandments of the Lord 
our God. Give alms out of thy substance and turn 
not away thy face from any poor person ; for so it 
shall come to pass that the face of the Lord shall 
not be turned away from thee. According to thy 
ability, be merciful. If thou have much, give abun- 



KINDNESS. 



63 



dantly ; if thou have little, take care even so to be- 
stow willingly a little. For thus thou storest up a 
good reward for the day of necessity. For alms 
deliver from all sin and from death, and will not 
suffer the soul to go into darkness.'^ — C. IV. — ■ 

I 

And if some people slight you. 

Never mind; 
If others wrong you, 

Still keep kind. 
If some ill-judge you. 

Unto yourself be true; 
By doing unto them, as you 

Would have them do to you. 

II 

What if some people snub you 

For the clothes you wear. 
What if others twit you 

Because you lack a gayish air? 
What does it really matter? 

Do not hold a spite; 
Cheerily tread life's pathway, 

Leading unto right. 

Ill 

Try to forgive the wrongs 

That others do you. 
You will need forgiveness 

For the wrongs you do; 
Always do your duty 

With a kind word or a smile; 
And, believe me, you'll find 

All wrongs righted in the after-while. 



lanttg. 



Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. 

— -Ecclesiastes C. I. 



VANITY. 



On^ce again the year in its rounded course has 
brought us to that period in which the general as- 
pect of the things about us is calculated to impress 
upon us the truth and importance of the fact that 
all these things, like the year itself, are coming 
near their end. 

The autumnal season, more than any other, is 
especially and significantly fitted to inspire us, in 
spite of our very selves, with thoughts of a serious 
and melancholy turn. The evidences of decay and 
death that are everywhere apparent in the world 
about us, the fading flower, the sear and yellow 
leaf, the ripening grain, and the departure from 
our midst of nature's songsters, the dear little 
birds, are all very fittingly calculated to excite 
within us thoughts in which most of us do not love 
to revel. 

The reflections that nature forces upon us, at 
this particular season, have suggested to me, 
therefore, the propriety of directing your atten- 
tion to-day, to a subject to which, I believe, these 



68 



11^ A NEW WAY. 



same reflections must naturally and reasonaloly 
lead us, namely, the ' ' Vanity of Life and the Noth- 
ingness of all things Earthly." 

I suppose it is the simple truth to say that there 
never was, and that, probably, there never will be, 
a man who enjoyed more of the good things of 
life, in every variety of form and diversity of 
object, than did Solomon, the son of David, and 
the first King of Israel. His position and circum- 
stances placed within his reach all the pleasures 
which the heart of man can enjoy here below. He 
was filled with a wisdom greater than that vouch- 
safed to any other man. He built cities and 
temples; he was visited by Kings and Queens, 
admired and almost worshipped as a god on 
account of the magnificence by which he was 
surrounded, and yet he was not happy. But 
listen to his own confession, ponder it well and 
judge for yourselves: ^'I heaped together for 
myself silver and gold and the wealth of Kings 
and provinces ; and I surpassed in riches all that 
were before me in Jerusalem; my wisdom also 
remained with me ; and whatever my eyes desired 
I refused them not and I withheld not my heart 
from enjoying every pleasure and delighting it- 
self in all the things I had prepared. And, when I 
turned myself to all the works which my hands 
had wrought, and the labors wherein I had labor- 



VANITY. 



69 



ed in vain, I found in all things vanity and vexa- 
tion of mind and that nothing was lasting under 
the sun.'' (Eccl. 11.) 

Here is the confession of the wisest of men — a 
man who tasted more of this world's happiness 
than any other, and yet he found it imperfect, and 
even vexatious, because nothing was lasting under 
the sun. Solomon died leaving the world in doubt 
whether he is eternally saved or lost. Some are of 
the opinion that the verdict he pronounced on the 
vanity of all earthly things is indicative of his 
conversion and return to God towards the last. 
The experience of King Solomon and the words in 
which he expressed his realization of the hollow- 
ness of all earthly pursuits, Vanity of vanities 
and all is Vanity", has been the experience of all 
succeeding generations and will continue to be the 
unfailing experience of every man that lives while 
time runs on. Why is it, then, that the world 
never will and never can quiet the restless spirit 
of man? Why is it impossible for earthly things 
to fill up the void in his heart? The answer is 
evident, certain and indisputable. Because it is 
not made for perishable goods or passing joys ; or, 
as St. Augustine beautifully expresses it: 

Our hearts, O God, were made for Thee. 

And restless must they be. 

Until they rest, until they rest in Thee. 

Were the heart of man made for the things of 
earth, these things would, of course, satisfy it. 



70 



IN A NEW WAY. 



Were it made to enjoy eartlily delights and 
the pleasures of the flesh, then such things, when 
obtained, would necessarily constitute it in a 
position of perfect peace. But, since they do 
not satisfy it, never will and never can satisfy 
it, under any conceivable circumstances, it must 
follow with absolute certainty and strictness of 
logic that man was made for something nobler, 
grander and better. God, being infinitely wise 
and good, must have adapted man, like all other 
creatures, to the end for which He created him. 
In fact, all nature, as we contemplate it, con- 
firms and puts the seal of truth on this 
statement. I look around me and I see that 
the beauties of art and nature are constantly 
changing, and that, in time, all created things 
grow old, wither and decay. The rocks crumble, 
the leaves fade, the grass withers, the clouds are 
fleeing by us and the waters flowing onwards to 
the sea. Vernal tenderness, summer splendors, 
autumn glories, come and go. The snows of winter 
cover hill and dale with a robe of purest white, 
but soon disappear. Flowers droop, roses wither 
and die. Childhood, youth, maturity, decay. The 
rising sun reminds us of the fond anticipations of 
the noon of life, the passing cloud that dims its 
brilliant lustre, just as it is attaining its meridian 
splendor, brings to our recollection a period in 
which we intend to realize our brightest hopes; 



VANITY. 



71 



and yet that very time is oft consumed in the 
gloom of cloudy days and starless nights. Its 
reflected rays, as it disappears beyond the West- 
ern hills, tell us that the most brilliant career 
passes like the meteor ^s flash and that every 
beauty, every treasure, every joy, must by the 
law that rules contingency, vanish like a dream. 
Nor can the proudest works of man afford us any 
positive assurance of a more lasting duration. The 
ivy clings to the mouldering tower and ruins the 
walls it embraces ; the wild flower grows along the 
battered casement, and deserted is the ancestral 
hall that once resounded to the voice of merriment 
and gayety. The fairest forms of chiseled marble 
which seemed to reflect the purest nobility of char- 
acter, attest as much their own inevitable decay 
as they do the mutability of the hand that wrought 
them. Have you ever visited one of those old, 
ancestral domains that you have certainly read 
about in romance and history! Nothing, I believe, 
impresses the mind with a deeper feeling of loneli- 
ness than to tread the silent and deserted scene 
of former throng and pageant. Nothing, more 
than this, so well calculated to fill us with such an 
awful and surprising sense of the vanity of life, 
the emptiness of renown and the certainty of 
oblivion. 

This country is far from being rich in relics of 
this kind; and, the few that are scattered here and 



72 



I^J" A NEW WAY. 



there, have mostly but a local reputation, and are 
exceedingly weak in comparison with the many 
historical domains of the old world. I have two 
places in mind just now that come nearest to any- 
thing in this line that I could give you from my 
own experience. A few miles from the college 
where I made my studies and on land owned by 
the celebrated C. — family of Maryland, there 
stood a large stone house, fashioned in accordance 
with the architecture of Colonial times. The 
place was known the country round as ^^The 
Folly" and every student that passed through 
Saint Charles' Classic halls was supposed some 
time during his collegiate career, to pay the place 
a visit. The approach to the domain was reached 
by crossing a narrow stream of water which was 
spanned by a magnificent stone arch. The futility 
of such an expensive outlay over such an insignifi- 
cant body of water, gave to this quondam lovely 
demesne the reproachful epithet of **The Folly.'* 
The house itself, which was then entirely aban- 
doned, was a large and commodious brick struct- 
ure and had been, undoubtedly, the scene of many 
distinguished gatherings during the trjdng years 
of the great Civil War. The air of melancholy 
and mystery that seemed to pervade the entire 
surroundings, that unconquerable feeling of tim- 
idity and awe that invariably preceded, accom- 
panied and followed a journey through the de- 



VAJTITY. 



73 



serted apartments, and, above all, tHat surrepti- 
tious peep into the desolate dungeon, where many 
a poor slave is said to have yielded to the over- 
exacting requirements of cruel masters, all lent 
to this relic of vanity and human folly the unen- 
viable reputation that usually attaches to a haunt- 
ed house. 

The other ancestral domain to which I refer 
was located on the most beautiful and picturesque 
river of America — the lordly Hudson. No state 
in the Union is richer in domains of this kind than 
the great Empire State ; and, no part of the state 
itself, contains so many, as that portion of it 
where the land verges towards the sea. The cele- 
brated D. — Estate of New York is one of these, 
and, like its sister domain, perched on the green 
hill of Maryland, is now abandoned by its former 
occupants and given over to the ravages of time. 
On the occasion that I visited it only one member 
of the family survived — an elderly gentleman — 
who lived a lonely life in the little gate house at 
the entrance, where he kept guard over all that 
remained of this once flourishing pile. 

Such is life, and sad are the impressions that 
these things invariably leave upon us. As we 
move among such scenes as these we are over- 
powered by a strange sensation. The vanity of 
life is over it all ; and we feel that, like the waves 
of the sea, we follow one another, each in turn, 



74 



m A NEW WAY. 



breaking and disappearing as it strikes against 
the eternal shore. We trace these thoughts to 
their final and logical conclusion and we force 
upon ourselves the conviction of the wisest of 
men: Vanity of vanities and all is Vanity — Ex- 
cept to love God and serve Him alone. 

As we remarked at the outset the ''Vanity of 
Life'' is a subject quite naturally suggested to us, 
and even forced upon us, at this time by the 
dreary aspect that all nature takes on at this par- 
ticular season of the year. Aside from this, and 
even assuming that the autumnal season has no 
suggestiveness for us, I venture to say that the 
man has never lived, and never will live who has 
not, at some time or other, fallen under that 
strange idiosyncrasy for which we can find no 
better and no truer name than "The Vanity of 
Life." 

It was a custom among the ancient Egyptians 
to place a skull in the center of the table at all 
their banquets and feasts, in order that the hide- 
ous suggestion that death ends all, might occupy 
the minds of the guests. Here where every ele- 
ment of life abounded and was running riot in its 
exuberance the center of the scene was occupied 
by the symbol of death. V ery many suppose that 
the conception was a restraining one and that the 
effect was chastening to the mind of the beholder. 
Quite the contrary. As each eye caught this em- 



VANITY. 



75 



blem of death, tlie revelry grew louder, the pulse 
beat higher in the enjoyment of the present mo- 
ment, the jest became broader and more boister- 
ous, and all thought of restraint was flung to the 
four winds of heaven. The suggestion of the hide- 
ous Death ^s head at the feast is the grossly pagan, 
materialistic thought that dominates the minds of 
many of the voluptuaries of this progressive 
twentieth century: ^^Let us eat, drink and be 
merry, for to-morrow we die. ' ^ 

The second picture that I would sketch for you 
is an imaginative reproduction of the great artist 
Guidons famous painting of Saint Mary Magda- 
len. We are told in the gospel that a certain wo- 
man who had fallen into very grave disorder in 
her youth, and who, in consequence, was delivered 
over to be possessed by seven devils, came to 
Jesus in the house of Simon the Pharisee, and, 
by her deep compunction, deserved to hear from 
Him the benign and consoling assurance that her 
sins were forgiven her. The soft accents, winning 
pleading and clear reasoning of the greatest of 
all moral teachers had lifted the attention of this 
erring one to a life of higher aims, had inspired 
her heart with a desire for more lasting pleasures, 
and had directed the longings of her soul to the 
winning of a crown that fadeth not away. Up to 
this very day the Holy Cave near Marseilles in 
France is still pointed out where Mary Magdalen, 



76 



m A NEW WAY. 



after the departure of her Lord and Master from 
this earth, passed thirty years in hard and bitter 
penance, and the picture that the great artist has 
painted of her represents her in her solitary home, 
bent in profound meditation over a like emblem of 
death — a hideous skull — that occupied the center 
of the Egyptian banquet table. 

In these two pictures we have two ways of look- 
ing at life and death, typical of the two broad ways 
into which the human family divides. The Egyp- 
tian at the banquet and Saint Mary Magdalen in 
her lonely cave, both saw the vanity of life but 
from wide and divergent viewpoints. And the 
world to-day is full of men and women who at 
life's feast see the Egyptian skull before them, 
not to exercise restraint, not to chasten their en- 
joyments, but to make wilder the hurricane of de- 
bauch as each lip exclaims in the delirium of mo- 
mentary delight : **Let us eat, drink and be merry 
for to-morrow we die.'' 

And the world also has many noble, saintly souls 
who like Mary Magdalen have the emblem of death 
ever present to the eye of their imagination to 
remind them that the most intense joys of earth, 
the world and all its possessions, life and every- 
thing that it brings, are all transient like the grass 
of the field which flourishes for a moment and 
then passes away. Well, indeed, will it be for us 
if, like all God's servants, we see the vanity of 



VANITY. 



77 



the world from this viewpoint. If like them we 
always bear well in mind that all we carry through 
the grave across the dark river of death with its 
deep, cold stream, which no human footstep has 
ever retraced, is our character and good works. 
Our possessions we leave to others to enjoy or 
squander as they will. The dearest ties of friend- 
ship are disrupted. The fame of the greatest 
scarcely outlasts the torches that light the funeral 
march to the grave. Not what we have, but what 
we are, is the one thing that survives us as our 
sole possession in the life to come. Mindful of 
these things how forcibly, here and now, comes 
home to us the abiding declaration of the Savior : 
*^Unum est necessarium." *'One thing is neces- 
sary — the salvation of my immortal soul. 

While everything around us contributes to dis- 
close to us the vanity of life and to defeat our 
endeavors after perfect happiness here below, 
there are four things, all, or anyone of which, 
must, sooner or later, convince the most skeptical 
of its unfaihng truth, namely, riches, pleasures, 
fame, and finally, death. There is, in fact, as all 
should know, a burden of care in getting riches, 
fear in keeping them, temptation in using them, 
guilt in abusing them, sorrow in losing them, and 
an awful account to be given at last concerning 
them. Wealth, after all, is only a relative thing, 
since he that has little and wants less, is richer 



78 IN A NEW WAY. / 

than he that has much but wants more. And, sure- 
ly, he that has wealth and will not permit it to do 
any good to others while he is Hving, prevents it 
from doing any good to himself when he is dead ; 
and, by an egotism that is suicidal, cuts himself 
ofi from the truest pleasure here and the highest 
happiness hereafter. We brought nothing with 
us into the world and certainly we shall take noth- 
ing away; and, the greater progress we make in 
the science of the saints the clearer shall be our 
insight into the folly of riches and the sooner 
shall we discover the vanity of all earthly posses- 
sions. *^Let the kings and princes of earth'', 
said Saint Paulinus, ^^have their kingdoms and 
their riches, my riches and my possessions shall 
be Thee alone, 0 my God.'' 

*^Give me, 0 God, Thy love and Thy grace", 
was always the prayer of Saint Ignatius, that is, 
grant that I may always love and be loved by 
Thee, and I am rich enough, I ask and desire noth- 
ing more. 

Surely, I need not tell you how short-lived, emp- 
ty and vain are all the pleasures of earth. They 
trouble us in seeking them, they do not satisfy us 
in possessing them and they make us despair in 
losing them. 

merry evening", says the devout author of 
the Imitation of Christ, * * oftentimes maketh a sad 
morning, and a joyful going forth, begeteth a sor- 



VANITY. 



79 



rowful return home.'' Pleasure and sorrow are 
twins. Furthermore, the objects wherein men 
look for pleasure here on earth are not only finite 
in their nature, but they are, at very best, but few 
in number. Indeed, could a man's life be so con- 
trived that he could have a new pleasure ever 
ready at his hand as soon as he was grown weary 
of the old, and every day enjoy a virgin delight, 
he might, then, and for a while, think himself 
happy in the continued succession of new acquisi- 
tions. But alas! Nature does not treat us with 
this variety; the compass of our enjoyments is 
much shorter than our lives and there is a period- 
ical circulation of our pleasures as well as of our 
days. Our enjoyments run in perpetual round 
like the months in the calendar but with a quicker 
revolution. We rise like the sun and run the same 
course A<^e did the da/ before and to-morrow is 
but the same over again. 

The vanity of pleasure has been so fully treated 
by philosophers, poets and divines, and is, withal, 
so obvious to every thinking man that it were 
needless for me to tarry longer on this point. If 
it were left to me, however, to select the best that 
has been said on the matter, in concise, truthful 
and beautiful language by any particular class of 
men, from their own observation, study and per- 
sonal knowledge combined, I believe I should se- 
lect the poet; and if, again, to give freedom to 



80 



IIT A NEW WAY. 



my choice, it were permitted me to go down the 
long line of poetic genius, I should single out but 
three — Burns, Byron, and Moore — which three 
have probably best expressed what all the others 
must certainly have felt. / 

"Pleasures," said Burns, "are like the poppies spread. 
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; 

Or like the snow flake on the river, 
A moment seen, then lost forever." 

Byron declares that 

"Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure. 
There is no sterner moralist than pleasure." 

And Moore, who certainly knew whereof he 
spoke, assures us that 

"This world is all a fleeting show 

For man's illusion given; 
The smiles of joy, the tears of woe. 

Deceitful shine, deceitful flow. 
There's nothing true but heaven." 

Now, if riches have wings and grandeur is but 
a dream, if pleasure is so evanescent and fleeting, 
I take it as truth to say that fame, is the least en- 
during of all. There is no employment in the 
world so laborious as that of making for one's self 
a great name ; for, in most cases, life ends before 
one has scarcely finished the first rough draught 
of his work. One thing we may put down as cer- 
tain with regard to fame : for most of us, it will 
be exceedingly brief in itself; for all of us,- it will 
be strangely transient in our enjoyment of it. 
When death has dropped the curtain we shall hear 
no more applause. And, though we fondly dream 



VANITY. 



81 



thiat it will continue after we have left the stage, 
we do not realize how quickly it will die away in 
silence while the audience turns to look at the 
new actor and the next scene. Our position in 
society, whatever it may be, will be filled as soon 
as it is vacated and our name remembered only 
for a moment. Perchance, a few of our nearest 
and dearest will bear our likeness in their bosoms 
till they, too, arrive at the end of their journey 
and enter the dark dwelling of unconsciousness. 
A stone, perhaps, will tell some wanderer where 
we lie, but this, too, will, ere long, refuse to per- 
form its office. Time's effacing finger will soon 
wear it smooth ; and the wanderer of another age, 
passing without a single call upon his sympathies, 
over our unheeded graves, will not know that we 
ever existed. ^'When I reflect'', said the poet, 
Pope, ^^what an inconsiderable little atom every 
single man is with respect to the whole creation, 
me thinks it is a shame to be concerned at the re- 
moval of such a trivial animal as I am. The morn- 
ing after my exit, the sun will rise as bright as 
ever, the flowers will smell as sweet, the plants 
spring as green, the world will go on in its old 
course, people will laugh as heartily and marry as 
fast as they were used to do." Truly, '^the 
memory of a man," as it is elegantly expressed in 
the Book of Wisdom, ^^passeth away as the re- 
memberance of a guest that tarrieth but one day ! ' ' 



82 



IN A NEW WAY. 



"The rust will find the sword of fame,, 

The dust will hide the crown; 
Ay, none shall nail so high his name. 

Time will not tear it down." 

Ob]i\T.on with lier sponge will eventually wipe 
the proudest name from the tablet of human recol- 
lection ; and the bustling hero of this little drama 
will be heard of, and thought of, and finally, even 
dreamed of, no more. 

If then you or I ever find ourselves growing dis- 
couraged with our lot, or miserable because we are 
not great, here is a thought that should give us 
courage. For eleven hundred years, proud, im- 
perial, pagan Kome was the center and mistress 
of the known world. To-day the language of the 
Eomans has almost been forgotten and the Eoman 
capital has no commercial importance. Her states- 
men and philosophers, her orators and poets, her 
warriors and soldiers, who invaded and subdued 
every known country at the Eoman period: her 
Virgils, her Ciceros and her Caesars are now only 
names, simply that and nothing more to the aver- 
age man. 

We read of one of the greatest of Turkish rul- 
ers, Saladan, that, when he found his end ap- 
proaching, he commanded the shroud in which his 
body was to be enveloped to be carried through 
the streets, and a messenger to go before, crying 
out with a loud voice: "Behold what Saladan, 



VANITY. 



83 



the mighty Conqueror of the East, carries away 
with him of all his vast dominions. ' ' 

The Roman Emperor, Septimius Severus, some 
moments before expiring cried aloud: Omnia 
fui, sed nihil expedit.'' ''I have been all things 
and all things are nothing: and I have nowhere 
found solid content and happiness.'^ 

Among the papers of a celebrated Arabian Mon- 
arch, the following note was found after his death : 
have been Caliph for fifty years and I have en- 
joyed all that men can possibly enjoy here on 
earth. Being desirous to know the number of 
days in which during this long period my heart 
was truly satisfied, I found it, upon exact enumer- 
ation, to amount to fourteen only. Mortals, learn 
from me how to appreciate worldly grandeur and 
this transitory life.'^ 

But why call upon the dead of the centuries and 
centuries a gone to witness to the vanity of worldly 
fame, when history bristles with instances much 
nearer home and closer to our own times. Let me 
freshen your memory on this matter with the ex- 
perience of but one well known historical person- 
age — Napoleon Bonaparte. Passing over all refer- 
ences to the marvellous military career of this ex- 
traordinary man, taking no notice whatever of his 
personal endowments, physical or otherwise, of 
his abilities, natural or acquired, or of the opin- 
ions, pro and con, that history retains of him, I 



84, 



IN A NEW WAY. 



wish merely, for the present, to give yon in his 
own words, the impression that all these things 
made upon him at the last. After an almost un- 
precedented succession of victories, after having 
brought all Europe to his feet, after having made 
himself the idol of some, and the terror of other 
nations, he suffered, as you know, defeat in the 
end, and, finally, sought hospitality and protection 
from the very nation he had fought so long. 
Subsequently, on the thirteenth of October, Eigh- 
teen hundred and fifteen, he was exiled by the 
British government to the lonely island of Saint 
Helena where he died on the fifth of May, eighteen 
hundred and twenty-one. Here, on this rock-rib- 
bed and desolate island, twelve hundred miles 
from the shores of Africa, Napoleon lived, guard- 
ed as no other prisoner ever was, or ever will be, 
for nearly six years. 

^^Does your government mean to detain me upon 
this rock till the day of my death", said Napoleon, 
shortly after his arrival, to one of his guards? 
^^I am sorry to say, Sir," replied the English of- 
ficer, ^^that such, I apprehend, is their purpose." 
*^Well, then, replied the Emperor, ''the end of my 
life will soon arrive." Among the thoughts that 
the world will longest treasure are those that were 
caught by eager listeners as they fell from the 
lips of this ill-fated man on the rocky shores of 
Saint Helena: ''I shall soon be in my grave. 



VANITY. 



85 



Such is the fate of great men. So it was with the 
Caesars and Alexanders, and I, too, am forgotten. 
My exploits are tasks given to pupils by their tu- 
tor who sits in judgment over me. I die before my 
time and my dead body must return to earth to be 
the food of worms. Behold the destiny now at 
hand for him who has been called the Great Na- 
poleon ! What an abyss between my great misery 
and the eternal reign of Christ who is proclaimed 
loved and adored over the whole world. 

Sic transit Gloria Mundi. So passes the glory 
of the world. Vanitas Vanitatum et omnia vani- 
tas, nisi amare Deum et Illi soli servire.'' Van- 
ity of Vanities and all is vanity, but to love God 
and serve Him alone.'' 



But lie that shall scandalize one of these little 
ones that believe in me, it were better for him that 
a mill-stone shonld be hanged about his neck, and 
that he should be drowned in the depth of the sea. 

Woe to the world because of scandals. For it 
must needs be that scandals come: but neverthe- 
less woe to that man by whom the scandal com- 
eth. Matt. XVIII 6—7.^ 



SCANDAL. 



It may be somewhat difficult for us to conceive 
how our Blessed Lord should declare it necessary 
that scandals should come, and, in the very same 
breath, pronounce a woe against their authors. 
The difficulty, however, will easily disappear when 
we try to understand our Blessed Lord's meaning. 
He did not mean to insinuate their absolute neces- 
sity ; He merely wished to imply that, considering 
the frailty and depravity of human nature, and 
the many incentives to evil that are daily thrown 
around us, they are, in a manner, inevitable. If 
the various dispositions and corruptions of so 
many men, together with their levity, ambition 
and cupidity are taken into account, it is not pos- 
sible but that sometimes by some, yea, frequently 
by many, there should be crimes that cause others 
to stumble. Nevertheless, woe to the individual 
by whom the scandal cometh, because he determin- 
ately and of his own free will, in this or that in- 
discreet or wicked action, sins mortally himself 
and is the cause of spiritual ruin to the little ones 
of Christ. That scandals do exist in the world is 
a fact that can not be denied. Neither does it 



90 



IX A NEW WAY. 



require a very extensive acquaintance with men 
and things to learn that, if the present age is one 
of enlightenment and progress, it is one, also, of 
pretty general moral depravity. 

Nowadays, crimes of a most shocking and re- 
volting nature are ordinary occurrences, and no 
longer appear to arouse the indignation or excite 
the horrors of the multitude. The daily press, in 
hideous terms, recounts cases ever increasing in 
number of dishonesty, perjury, murder and sui- 
cide — ^nay, cases in all phases of immorality, with 
their concomitant disorders. Virtue is on the 
wane; vice is becoming popular. The beardless 
youths and thoughtless girls that parade the 
streets of our cities and towns tell of anything but 
modesty and propriety in their gait, words, and 
gestures. It is, indeed, very much to be feared 
that the rising generation bids fair to be even 
more godless, more unprincipled than the one 
that is gradually disappearing. 

And at this we need not be at all surprised ; for, 
I)rone to e\il as are the senses of man from his 
youth, bad example, now, as in the past, will find 
people ready, nay eager to copy its results. 

From the day when the boy first crosses the 
threshold of the Public School, till the moment 
he is said to have completed his education, he 
learns much that in a greater or less degree alien- 
ates him from God, and estranges him from the 



SCANDAL. 



91 



higher aspirations of human nature, for the germs 
of noble thought are often nipped in the bud; 
crushed and destroyed in their very seed. Eelig- " 
ion is largely ignored ; or, if it is at all professed, ' 
it is merely a dead branch of the only true tree 
that can lay any lasting claim on the conscience 
of the multitude. When principles such as these 
are engrafted upon the young mind it must follow 
that his future career will reveal the practical side 
of them. Nay, when even Catholics themselves 
will entrust the education of their children to ir- 
religious minded men and women, they need not 
be at all surprised if, in later life, those same 
children pursue a course for which the parents 
can blame themselves. Oh, how many youthful 
hopes are blasted, how many young and innocent 
hearts corrupted, how many once beautiful and 
promising lives destroyed, by the pernicious influ- 
ence of bad example! A young man, pure in 
heart and soul, of generous aims and noble char- 
acter, with every prospect of a bright and prom- 
ising career before him, is early thrown upon 
his own resources, cast out into the rugged scenes 
of life, with no guide but a good conscience, no 
boast but his honesty. He comes in contact with 
men to whom virtue is vice, and vice, virtue. 
Their evil ways and wicked counsels gradually 
gain an ascendency over him, — bad example has 
gained another victim. 



92 



IN A NEW WAY, 



How often do not the columns of the press 
record the heinous deeds of those, though young 
in years, yet are old in crime! Youths scarce 
above the age of reason, led on by the example 
of older wretches, plunge into the deep dark 
waters of the river, or send a bullet through their 
crazy brain, thus to end a life scarce begun. 

All this is no exaggeration, it is only a plain 
statement of facts daily occuring in the life around 
us. 

But let us come a little more to the subject, and 
see in what consists the essence of scandal, or 
bad example. 

The word ''scandal'^ signifies a stumbling 
block, and it is employed in Holy Writ to mean 
an obstacle on the way of another ^s salvation. 
Hence by scandal we are to understand all kinds 
of unedifying words and actions which of their 
own nature are apt to endanger the \drtue and 
innocence of our neighbor, or which, by reason 
of his peculiar weakness, become a stumbling 
block in his way, and actually prove the occasion 
of the spiritual ruin and consequent damnation of 
his soul. Any word, deed or omission which is 
to our neighbor an occasion of falling into sin, 
is scandal. The deed or omission must be ex- 
ternal; for no internal act, so long as it remains 
so, can be a cause of spiritual ruin to any one 
but ourselves. Scandal may be direct or indirect, 



SCANDAL. 



93 



according as the evil action of another is intended 
in itself, or in the cause only by which our neigh- 
bor is induced to sin. When the spiritual ruin of 
our neighbor is formally intended, scandal is 
called diabolical. If, however, our own advan- 
tage or pleasure is the object, then it is simply 
direct scandal ; or, in other words, scandal is said 
to be direct, when a person deliberately intends 
to induce others to commit sin ; and indirect, when 
he uses language, or gives an example calculated 
to lead others into sin. Both the one and the other 
are mortal sins, when they are actually the occa- 
sion of anyone committing a grievous fault. 
Again, scandal is active or passive. Active 
scandal is scandal given ; passive scandal is scan- 
dal taken. It is evident th^t scandal can some- 
times be active, or scandal given, without, how- 
ever, being passive, or scandal taken; and so, too, 
scandal may be taken without being given; in 
the latter case, the scandal is not properly attrib- 
utable to the action of another, but rather to the 
ignorance, imagination, or even malice, of him 
who takes it. If the scandal is due to the ignor- 
ance or peculiar weakness of the one who takes it, 
it is called scandal of the weak ; if it arises from 
the sheer malice of the person, it is called Pharisa- 
ical. 

Those who are hardened in sin and who have 
drunk deep of every forbidden cup, are not easily 



94 lis^ A NEW WAY. 

scandalized — but the impressionable young and 
the innocent, whom ''a breath can slay as a 
breath hath made them", easily fall victims to its 
poisonous darts. Youth like white paper takes 
any impression. ^'Father, I am walking right in 
your foot-steps'', said the child, and the father, 
on looking around, saw that, to shorten his jour- 
ney, he had taken a very dangerous path. He 
hastily grasped his little one by the hand and 
hurried back to take a more circuitous route, but 
one which he knew would be perfectly safe, if 
the child ever followed him again. 

Believe me, children have a way of their own of 
finding out what their parents are. You may 
be able to deceive your acquaintances and friends 
who see you only occasionally, and know you only 
partially; but not so the children who grow up 
around you in the home. Your modes, and man- 
ners, and undesigned examples are remembered, 
long years after, when the children have gone 
out into the wide world, and they are better or 
worse for the memories. Be more prudent, 
then, even for your children than you are for 
yourselves. For, when they too become parents, 
they will imitate you and each of you will have 
prepared happy generations who will transmit, 
together with your memory, the fame of your 
wisdom. 

It is difficult, indeed, to imagine how persons 



SCANDAL. 



95 



responsible for children and domestics can seri- 
ously think on the diabolical nature of scandal- 
giving, and the woes pronounced against it by 
our Blessed Lord, and still continue to be rocks 
of scandal in their own families. 

They are such, to be sure, as often as they show 
themselves indifferent to the sacred duties of 
religion; and they are nothing short of it, when 
their language and actions are unchristian, or as 
often as they tolerate the like in their own homes 
and in the presence of their families. 

In this world of glare and glitter it is not at all 
surprising if the weakminded and the young 
are sometimes enticed to stray from the path of 
rectitude and duty. Even parents who are good 
themselves, and who surround their homes with 
every possible safe guard and precaution, are, 
oftentimes, alas! obliged to weep over the way- 
wardness of their sons and daughters. But, when 
the parents themselves, or the larger brothers 
and sisters are careless, indifferent, bad, what can 
you hope for from the younger ones that are wit- 
nesses of their example. If the root be rotten, 
what about the tree? If the parent stock be de- 
fective or corrupt, can you wonder if the offspring 
is weak or tainted? If the source of the stream 
be polluted, the waters can scarce be pure. 

0 foolish parents who thus prostitute your 
vocation! if the woes of scandal-givers will be 



96 



IN A NEW WAY. 



great, and we liave God's word for it that they 
will, your deserts will demand their ultimate ven- 
geance of an injured God toward His most un- 
grateful creatures. You will yet curse the day 
that you assumed the responsibility to bring up 
children, not for God, but for His enemy, the 
devil. 

Miserable is the man that gives scandal. ^'He 
that shall scandalize one of these little ones that 
believe in Me'', says our Blessed Lord, ^4t were 
better for him that a millstone should be hanged 
about his neck and that he should be drowned in 
the depth of the sea. (Matt. XVni). 

Now, is there the least glimmer of hope for a 
man cast into the sea with a millstone about his 
neck? The Gospel appears to say that there is no 
greater hope for the salvation of the givers of 
scandal; and Saint John Chrysostom writes that 
the Lord is more inclined to show mercy to those 
who commit other more grievous sins, than to 
those who are guilty of the sin of scandal. ^ ^ Scan- 
dal, like a reptile crawling over a bright grass, 
leaves a trail and a stain." Scandal breeds 
hatred; hatred begets division; division makes 
faction, and faction brings ruin. 

But, I would not have you think that it is pa- 
rents alone who are making an impression on 
their children, but all men and women in the 
world, by their influence and example, are doing 



SCANDAL. 



97 



something to benefit or injure those who are to 
come after them. We may be beautiful flowers 
shedding peace and happiness around us by the 
sweet odor of our virtuous lives, or noxious plants 
that will infect generations yet unborn ; but blanks 
we can not be. The blossom cannot tell what be- 
comes of its odor, and no man can tell what be- 
comes of his influence and example once his deeds 
have gone on their mission. The tender words, 
the loving deeds, we scatter for the hearts that 
throb nearest to us may be immortal seed, spring- 
ing up into everlasting beauty, not only in our 
own lives, but in the lives of those born after us. 

On the other hand, remember that every wrong 
road has had a beginning, and that there was a 

first time'' for putting into practice every evil 
thought that ever grew into a wicked habit that 
led to a crime. 

There was a ''first time'' that your little boy 
told a lie; a first time that the blasphemer used 
an oath; a first time that the drunkard tasted 
liquor ; a first time when the bad Catholic omitted 
those sacred duties of religion that in his better 
moments it must gall him to recall. A first time 
that the town, city, or government official com 
mitted a theft. 

It is a mistake to suppose that the force of ex- 
ample is confined to those alone who occupy ex- 
alted stations, or who tread the higher walks of 



98 



m A NEW WAY. 



life. The merchant at his desk, the mechanic at his 
toil, the farmer in the field, the maid in her kit- 
chen> are all contributing their share towards the 
advancement of good and the suppression of evil, 
and are all, in their respective stations wielding 
an influence proportionally as great, as the judge 
at the bench, or the lawyer at the bar. 

Fathers who are intemperate, indifferent and 
careless; mothers who are false to their duties; 
children who are disobedient and headstrong; 
young men who are given to dissipation, and 
young women who are fond of the world. Poli- 
ticians whose aim is self, with an ambition to 
reap the coveted honors, without having the 
merit or ability to acquire them. Jurists who are 
open to bribery and lost to all shame and decency ; 
servants who are negligent of duty; employers 
who are unfaithful, and all who are playing the 
role of the hypocrite, are sowing the seed which 
promises to result in a vast amount of evil to 
those who come after them. ''The evil that men 
do lives after them ; the good is oft interred with 
their bones.'* 

*'How criminal, then, to use the words of an- 
other, must those nominal and half christians be, 
who by the pagan lives they lead, disgrace the 
Christian name, dishonor the sacred character 
they bear, bring unjust aspersions on the faith 
they profess, and hinder the conversion of num- 



SCANDAL. 



99 



bers of well disposed souls by the scandalous ex- 
ample they give both at home and abroad. Crim- 
inal, and highly so, are those Catholics who, by 
their quarrelings, immoralities, and licentious- 
ness materially injure the cause of religion, and 
draw bitter reproaches on the Church of God.'' 
Yes, and criminal, too, beyond a doubt, are those 
fathers and mothers, employers and employees, 
whose words and actions from early morn till 
late at night, are continual lessons of impiety, 
of drunkenness, of blasphemy, of execrations and 
other horrid vices for their unfortunate children 
and domestics. 

It is frightful to consider the consequence that 
may result from the good or evil that we do. The 
weakness and malice of men have infested the 
world with scandals. Nor has war, nor famine, 
nor pestilence destroyed more bodies then scan- 
dal has souls. Like the contagion of the body, 
this contagion of the soul flies from one to an- 
other. Like the ball let fall from on high by the 
aeronaut, increasing its velocity the farther it 
travels, scandal acquires new force as it passes 
down the ages from generation to generation. 
Woe to the world because of scandals ! 

If crime is rampant in the world to-day, some- 
body; surely, is to blame. ^^It must needs be that 
scandals come, but woe to the man by whom they 
come." 



100 IN A NEW WAY. 

If there are mothers bemoaning the hapless 
fate of fallen daughters, and fathers sighing in 
vain for the hopeless return of wandering sons, 
the siren that lured them from virtue's path 
will some day meet with just retribution. 

And what testimony can you give of yourself? 
Looking back upon your past, and reflecting upon 
the deeds that fill up the fleeting present, have you 
no regrets, is there nothing you would wish to 
alter 1 If you are a parent, and your children are 
yet your crown and your joy, bless God for it, and 
humbly pray that He may ever kindly lead them 
through the rocks and shoals that beset life's 
perilous voyage, and land both you and them, at 
last safe at His feet in heaven. But if even one 
of the children that God has given you has ever 
added a sorrow to your soul or a furrow to your 
brow, see if you can not refer it to the day when 
your own unguarded conduct, or the influence of 
another's bad example, which you probably could 
have warded off, eventually led the way to what 
you now regret in your son's or daughter's pres- 
ent unpromising career. 

The harvest may seem a long way off, but it 
will most assuredly come, with its burning reali- 
ties and tremendous consequences. There has 
always been a seed time and a harvest, a summer 
and a winter, since the world began. So is it in 
human life. As summer follows spring, and au- 



SCANDAL. 



101 



tumn succeeds summer, and dreary winter comes 
at last, even so will it be with all who have neg- 
lected God's overtures of mercy in Christ. With 
them the harvest will soon be past and the summer 
ended, and their condition will be eternally hope- 
less. *^He that observeth the wind shall not sow, 
and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap. ' ' 
Every man is personally responsible for his 
sowing and reaping. To parents and children, to 
young and old, let me propose in conclusion, those 
other words of Christ to his disciples : **Let your 
light so shine before men that they may see your 
good works, and glorify your Father who is in 
heaven. ' ' 



The first sure symptoms of a mind in health, 
Is rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home. 

— Young. 



HOME, 



Some one has said and said truthfully that the 
three sweetest words in the English language are 
Heaven, Home and Mother. As the Church in 
her office of to-day places before us for our con- 
templation and imitation the Holy Family of Naz- 
areth, and, as we are just now in the midst of 
the season of the year when, as we gather about 
the winter fire side and look around with a sense 
of sober and sheltered security upon comfortable 
surroundings, and feel more keenly disposed for 
the pleasures of the family circle and the delights 
of domestic felicity, I have thought it well to place 
before you a few thoughts on the one of these 
three sweetest words which associates in itself the 
meaning of the other two, namely, Home. There 
is a magic in this little word — it is a mystic circle 
that surrounds comforts and virtues never known 
beyond its hallowed precincts. If I could gather 
together for you all the beautiful things that have 
ever been said or written, in prose or verse, on 
the charms and endearments of home, what a vol- 
ume it would make ! Home, however, is not merely 
four square walls, for: 



106 1'^ A I^EW WAY, 

" 'Tis home where the heart ia 
Wherever that be. 
In city, on prairie. 
On mountain, by sea!" 

Even in the lints of far-off Alaska, snrronnded 
by the crashing bergs and the mountains where 
the snows lie forever and alway, the spirit of 
home exists. Oliver Goldsmith, one of Ireland's 
sweetest poets, whose roving proclivities enabled 
him to realize and appreciate more fnlly the value 
of a settled habitation, wishing to find some spot 
consigned to real happiness, has left ns in his 
exquisite poem. The Traveller, a very beautiful 
description of the sentiments and manners of the 
people of the countries through which he passed, 
each, of course, thinking his own the happiest 
and the best on earth. 

But where to find that happiest spot below 
Who can direct, when all pretend to know? 
The shudd'ring tenant of the frigid zone 
Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own. 
Extols the treasures of his stormy seas. 
And his long nights of revelry and ease; 
The naked negro panting at the line 
Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, 
Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave. 
And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. 
Such the patriot's boast, where'er we roam. 
His first, best country ever is at home. 

In fact, all history, all poetry and all philos- 
ophy, point to the home as the birthplace and 



HOME. 



107 



nursery of virtue, religion and morality. The 
domestic relations precede, and, in our present 
existence, are worth more than all our other social 
ties. They give the first throb to the heart and 
unseal the deep fountain of its love. Home is 
the great school of christian virtue. Its responsi- 
bilities, joys, sorrows, smiles, tears, hopes and 
solicitudes form the chief interest of human life. 
Home is the ever-living fountain of present joys, 
sweet memories and cherished hopes. "Where is 
the little lad or lass whose eye does not brighten, 
and whose pace does not quicken while returning 
from field, forest or school, when nearing the 
loved spot which he or she calls by the endearing 
name of home. There the kindliest thoughts find 
rest, and there our dearest recollections, in lov- 
ing memory, ever fondly turn. I suppose it is the 
truth to say that there never was a song which, 
in the sublime simplicity of its lines and the plain- 
tive melody of its air has so entwined itself around 
the hearts of a people as has the simple, chaste, 
and tender song of ''Home, Sweet Home.'' But, 
do you know that the author of those touching 
words, J. Howard Payne, never had a home. He 
tells us in one of his memoirs that, often as he 
wandered, friendless and alone, through the gay 
and crowded cities of London and Paris, he list- 
ened to the rendition of his own beautiful compo- 
sition in the halls and drawing-rooms of wealth 



108 



IN A NEW WAY. 



and fashion, while he himself knew not where he 
was to get his night's lodging, or his morning 
meaL 

Perhaps the sublimest songstress the world has 
ever produced was the famous Jenny Lind, pseu- 
donymed the Swedish Nightingale. One evening, 
many years ago, when some twenty thousand peo- 
ple were assembled in the Old Castle Garden in 
New York City to listen to her inspiring rendi- 
tion of some of the Grreat Masters, as she looked 
over that immense concourse, eager to catch the 
closing number on the program — a stranger in a 
strange land — she paused for a few moments, as 
if to hold her wings for higher flight, while her 
thoughts wandered away to her old home across 
the sea. Then, with deep emotion, she began to 
pour forth in strains, almost angelic, ''Home, 
Sweet Home.'' The overpowered throng became 
restless with emotion and an uproar of applause 
silenced the music. Tears gushed from the eyes 
of this great gathering like rain, till a few mo- 
ments when, the enthusiasm having died away, the 
pathetic strains of the old song — Home, Sweet 
Home, — again resounded through the vast build- 
ing, riveting, as with a spell, those twenty thous- 
and souls, while J. Howard Payne triumphed over 
the Great Masters of song. 

I repeat, and I say, truly and finally, that this 
little word — home — one of the three sweetest 



HOME. 



109 



words in the English tongue — associates in itself 
the meaning of the other two : for it makes us 
think of the Home beyond the skies — the ever- 
lasting Home in heaven — where they know not 
the sorrows of time,and where we hope, some day, 
to meet again, in blissful and indissoluble fellow- 
ship and union. 

"We are nothing, however, if we are not prac- 
tical ; and so I must turn from the beauty side of 
the subject, to something more commonplace and 
prosaic. Washington Irving, in one of his works, 
tells of a good old gentleman whose policy it was 
to make his children feel that home was the hap- 
piest place on earth; and, I value this delicious 
home-feeling as one of the choicest gifts a parent 
can bestow. Whether the failure to inculcate and 
inspire this feeling on the one hand, or to realize 
and comply with it on the other, be the cause of 
it or not, certain it is that home life is fast losing 
its hold on multitudes of this feverish and rest- 
less generation. I take it to be one of the surest 
evidences of retrogression in this American life 
of ours — the substitution of the club for the home 
and the passing of Domestic happiness — ^Hhe only 
bliss, of Paradise that has survived the Fall.'' ^ 

William Cowper, one of England's most charm- 
ing writers, in one of the cantos of the didactic 
poem— The Task— very beautifully pictures a 
scene that every home deserving of the name 



110 



I^T A NEW WAY. 



should present nightly at this particular season 
of the year. He says: 

"Now stir the fire and close the shutters fast; 
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round. 
And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn 
Throws up a steaming column, and the cups 
That cheer but not inebriate wait on each. 
So let us welcome peaceful evening in." 

You understand the sentiment of these lines. It 
is plain enough. When night comes on and dark- 
ness shrouds the earth, home is the place to find 
us. Indeed, a picture worthy of admiration and 
study it surely is to see, after the work of the day 
is done, the father and the mother, the sons and 
the daughters that compose the family circle, 
grouped around the cosy hearthfire, plying their 
respective tasks, or seated about the table in the 
living-room where they gather to read, study and 
sew. In the home where this obtains, there are 
likely to be found healthy, happy children ; a sweet, 
loving mother; a prosperous, contented father. 
There certainly need be no cause for anxiety, 
worry or care on the part of any that compose 
such a home because, perhaps, John has gone 
again to-night to one place of amusement and 
Julia, to another. Fathers and mothers, hear me, 
and do not soon forget it : when you see your sons 
and daughters around you in the home at nightfall, 
you know that every thing is well f but, when you 



HOME. 



Ill 



can betake yourselves to your rest, while you per- 
mit them to go unbridled here, there, and every 
where, you may, some day, permit this just once 
too often ; and, mayhap, to your bitter and lasting 
regret. Every home, remember, has an atmo- 
sphere of its own; and, oftentimes, it is in the 
poorest home that the purest joys are found. 

May the sweet spirit that ruled the holy abode 
at Nazareth be always in your home, however 
humble it may be; and may all who cross its 
threshold inhale the fragrant odor of the peace 
and love that there abide. With that good old 
gentleman of Washington Irving fame, teach your 
children to feel always and to realize, ever more 
and more, with their growing years, that it is the 
best and the happiest spot on earth ; in one word, 
that ^Hhere is no place like home.'' 

If home, then, is all that we claim it should be, 
it is certainly so because of those endearing at- 
tractions, the presence of those two, loving souls, 
father and mother, without which, home would 
scarcely be deserving of the name. The mother 
is the angel of the home, but only on condition 
that the foundation of that home be virtue. Nor 
can the home know a higher, a holier influence 
than hers, provided it be a religious influence. 
Without religion man is a shadow, Ms very exist- 
ence, a riddle, and the stupendous scenes of nature 
that surround him as unmeaning as the leaves 



112 



IN A NEW WAY. 



wliicli the Sibyl scattered in the wind. Without 
religion, man is a diseased creature who would 
persuade himself that he is well ; but woman with- 
out religion, is raging and monstrous. Without 
religion, how, I ask, can a woman become a good 
wife and a good mother ? She may love her child 
as her natural offspring, but she will care for his 
body and not for his soul, for she will have failed 
to understand that her chief mission is to nourish 
his spiritual life. We can readily comprehend 
why the enemies of religion make it their purpose 
and their aim to undermine a woman's faith; for, 
so long as a child is taught by its mother, it will 
believe in God. Nor can her teachings be ever en- 
tirely erased from the mind. They may grow dor- 
mant ; influence and association may weaken them ; 
but, no matter how many and evil a lesson may be 
learned in after life ; no matter into what excesses 
the wayward boy or the wanton girl may plunge, 
the principles once inculcated by a pious mother 
will some day revive. Perhaps long years after 
the angel of death has borne that mother in his 
chilling embrace, across the dark and shadowy 
river, away into the glorious Beyond, the cher- 
ished remembrance of her early teachings will 
come back again, urging that unhappy son or 
daughter to perform, like her, the life work that 
God has given them to do. Not to cite innumer- 
able other instances, we have, in confirmation of 



nOME. 



113 



this, the testimony of the penitent Saint Augus- 
tine, who declares in the Book of his Confession 
that, in all his wanderings, no matter into what 
excesses he plnnged, he could never forget the 
sweet name of Jesus which he learned at his 
mother \s knee. Happy, thrice happy, the child 
who enjoys the care of parents who are animated 
with that true spirit which should dominate the 
life of every christian, and who are both willing 
and anxious to impart this spirit to their children 
from their very infancy. This, then, is the real, 
the highest duty of parents, to train their children 
in the holy fear of Grod and in the practice of solid 
piety. Beethoven, one of the greatest m.usical 
composers that ever lived, was accustomed to say: 
^'Kecommend virtue to your children; that alone 
can make, them happy, not gold.^' Virtue, alone, 
outlives the pyramids. Her monuments shall last, 
when the monuments of Egypt fall. 

Here, before passing on to other thoughts more 
in keeping with my theme, permit me to make a 
reflection on quite a common and a much-to-be- 
regretted habit, namely, the habit of treating 
those who are nearest and dearest to us with dis- 
courtesy and indifference, while we reserve our af- 
fable manners and polite speeches for strangers 
and acquaintances. When we learn to be polite, 
not only as society people, but as fathers and 
mothers, brothers and sisters, parents and chil- 



114 



IH A KEW WAY. 



dren, we shall have gone far on our way towards 
the establishment of happy homes. A happy 
home is certainly one of the greatest blessings on 
this side of the Kingdom of Heaven. And, the 
home where good manners rule and mutual con- 
sideration reigns, is bound to be a happy one, 
though it be the top flat in a tenement, or a poor 
little hut on the prairie. Now, if there is one 
thing more than another, that upsets peace and 
happiness in the home circle, it is undoubtedly 
disorder. Certain it is that the disorderly home 
is about the most disagreeable place on earth. 
The father flees from it to seek comfort at the 
club or the saloon. The mother herself escapes 
from it whenever possible, and grows ill-tempered 
and morose because she can not escape from it 
oftener. The children gladly avoid it for the 
school or the street, returning thither only to eat 
and to sleep. In fact, the disorderly home is not 
a home at all ; but a mere temporary shelter for a 
group of human beings who are detained there 
by physical necessity, and who scatter, never more 
to reassemble, as soon as they can escape from the 
restraint that now keeps them together. The 
m.embers of these homes go out from them with 
very little regret or affectionate remembrance. 
For them the word ^'Home'^ has no tender mean- 
ing, and J. Howard Payne's plaintive melody is 
merely a song. 



HOME, 



115 



To have an orderly home, the father and mother 
must be orderly themselves, and the little ones 
should be taught the lesson of order as soon as 
they learn to walk. Order we know is the law of 
all intelligent existence; and, complete success in 
the home or in any avocation of life, is hardly at- 
tainable without it. Creation is the production of 
order. Every blade of grass in the field is meas- 
ured; the green cups and the colored crowns of 
every flower are curiously counted; the stars of 
the firmament wheel in cunningly calculated or- 
bits; even the winds and the storms have their 
laws, Order,'' writes Samuel Johnson, ^4s a 
lovely n^^mph, the child of beauty and wisdom; her 
attendants are comfort, neatness and activity; she 
is always to be found when sought for; and never 
appears so lovely as when contrasted with her 
opponent. Disorder.'' 

Well do I remember how much stress was 
placed on order, and how greatly it was insisted 
upon in the college where I made my preparatory 
studies. At the beginning of each session, the Very 
Eeverend President, a tall, ascetic, fatherly man, 
who lived to be more than ninety years of age, 
would read in grave and measured tones for fif- 
teen minutes each evening, during the time allotted 
for Spiritual Eeading, the rule that was to guide 
our student life. It was prefaced with sentences 
such as these: *'Qui vivit regula, vivit Deo." 



11(5 



m A NEW V\^AY. 



"He who lives by rule, lives for God.'' "Order 
leads to God." "Order is Heaven's first law." 
' ' Keep order, and order will keep yon. ' ' 

Order, in fine, is the sanity of the mind, the 
health of the body, the peace of the city, the secur- 
ity of the state. As the beams to a house, as the 
bones to the man, so is order to all things. The 
nearer the condition of our mortal existence ap- 
proaches to the harmony of the brighter world 
^ towards which our hopes aspire, the greater the 
contentment and happiness that we experience. 
While, on the contrary, the farther we are re- 
moved in our surroundings from the order which 
is heaven's first law, the more irreconciled are 
we to the disappointment and pains to which we 
are here subjected. Tranquil waters reflect the 
azure sky; and the well ordered home is the epi- 
tome of heaven. Have order, then, in your home, 
and you will contribute in a very great degree 
towards making it attractive and happy. This 
establishment of law and order in the household, 
requires effort, it is true ; but it is worth a thous- 
and times its cost. It means the building up of 
a home that is worthy of the name ; one that will 
be a sweet and an abiding memory and a helpful 
inspiration to all its inmates so long as they shall 
live. 

Of all the desolate places in the world, none is 
more dreary and uninviting, af this season of the 



HOME. 



117 



year, particularly, than the home that is cheerless 
and comfortless. To counteract so unpleasant a 
condition, many expend an immense amount of 
money in the purchase of costly chairs, elegant 
tapestry, rare paintings, and bric-a-brac of an- 
tique mould and style, while they altogether over- 
look an equally essential constituent in the fur- 
nishings of every well-regulated home, namely, 
books. The home that is well-stocked with good 
books and wholesome, helpful reading, is usually a 
happy one; and so there should be set aside in 
every home an especial appropriation for book 
furniture, backed, of course, by wise and judi- 
cious purchases. Nowadays we have public librar- 
ies galore and many parish libraries, too; but, 
there should be home libraries as well. The mind, 
like the body, has need of food; and, if the chil- 
dren growing up in the household, are not tempted 
to lay their hands on books, by an appetizing se- 
lection made by their parents, they will reach man- 
hood and womanhood mentally dwarfed, deprived 
of an intimacy with master-minds and a vision 
over elevated plains that will belittle them for life. 
Most likely it will be this way: either your chil- 
dren will be elevated by the best of all companions 
— good books — or they will be perverted by the 
worst of all — bad ones. Believe me, when a man 
loves his books he has that which will console him 
under many sorrows and strengthen him under 



118 



IN A NEW WAY. 



various trials. Such a love will keep him at home ; 
and, when a man is at home and happy with his 
books he must be a churl if he does not, in some 
way, communicate that happiness to others. 
have sought for happiness in many places, ' ' says 
Thomas a Kempis, ^ ^ and I have found it only in a 
little corner with a little book.'' Fenelon, the re- 
nowned pulpit-orator of France, declared that, 
if the crowns of all the kingdoms of the Empire 
were laid at his feet, in exchange for his books 
and his love of reading, he would spurn them all. 

You will recall that I began with a reference to 
the three sweetest words in the English tongue — 
Heaven, Home and Mother ; and, the drift of these 
periods has been to point out to you a way in 
which home may be made attractive, peaceful and 
happy. If I have let fall any word, however slight, 
calculated to bring about a consummation so much 
to be desired ; any word that may lead parents and 
children, brothers and sisters, into a closer and a 
holier union, I shall, indeed, feel richly and abund- 
antly repaid. 

In conclusion, I have only to express the hope 
that, in the years to come, when we are done with 
the homes of earth and you and I are but a mem- 
ory, we may all meet together around the Great 
White Throne, in the only home worth striving 
for— the eternal Home in Heaven, 



And who is he that can hurt you, if you be zeal- 
ous of good! I. Saint Peter III— 13. 

And in doing good, let us not fail; for in due 
time we shall reap, not failing. — Galatians Yl — 9. 

All whatsoever you do in word or in work, all 
things do ye in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
giving thanks to God and the Father by Him. — 
Col. Ill— 17. 



THE GOOD CATHOLIC'S DAILY LIFE, 



Pre-Lenten Thoughts. 

We stand to-day on the threshold of another 
Lent. The three Sundays which precede this pene- 
tential time are named Septuagesima, Sexagesima 
and Quinquagesima because they are the seventh, 
the sixth and the fifth before Passion Sunday. 
Those three weeks are, therefore, as the prelude 
to the sorrow and tears of repentance which will 
purify us and prepare us to worthily celebrate our 
resurrection, or, our passage to a more holy and 
blessed life. The Church wishes that the faithful 
should be prepared for this time of salvation, 
which is, in itself, a preparation, in order that the 
voices of the world dying out by degrees in their 
souls, they may give more attention to the solemn 
warning of Ash Wednesday. 

The thoughts which are here proposed for your 
consideration are intended to furnish you with 
some practical suggestions to spend advantage- 
ously and well, not only this holy season upon 
which we are about to enter, but every Lent that 



122 



IN A NEW WAY. 



we may be spared to see, and, in fact, every day 
of our lives. A christian has every day that dawns 
upon him four great duties to face: he has God 
to glorify; hell to avoid; heaven to gain, and his 
soul to save. He who strives earnestly his whole 
life long to glorify his Maker, will, most assuredly, 
avoid hell and gain heaven; and, he who gains 
heaven, will have saved his soul. To save one's 
soul, then, is the daily, hourly work of every 
christian ; and, to attain this great end, nothing is 
more conducive, more necessary, than a well regu- 
lated life. A life of order and method, a life in 
which every day and every hour is usefully and 
profitably employed, cannot be other than a well- 
spent life. Neither is there anyone, no matter 
what may be his occupation or calling, who cannot 
so manage his affairs that order and method may 
dominate his time and rule his day. ''Order," a 
poet tells us, "is heaven's first law"; and Solo- 
mon, the wisest of men, declares ''that all things 
have their season, and that in their times all 
things pass under heaven." — Eccl'tes III — 1. 

What admirable harmony do we not behold in 
the countless worlds that roll without confusion 
over our heads and bring us flowers and storms in 
their respective seasons! What mysterious order 
propels the forces of nature and guides the lesser 
creations in the paths they so imdeviatingiy pur- 
sue! The order of the Eternal manifests itself 



THE GOOD CATHOLIC DAILY LIFE. 123 

in the sun which rises and in every other natural 
phenomenon we see about us. And shall man 
himself, the mirror of the universe, be swayed by 
caprice and passion and do at all times whatever 
his tastes, inclinations or particular turn of mind 
may suggest? If, then, order is heaven's first 
law ' ' ; if order is our guide to God, and whatever 
comes from God is always well-ordered, so, as 
Saint Gregory of Nyssa truthfully and beautifully 
expresses it, ''he who lives according to rule and 
order, lives according to God.'' Indeed, he who 
has no taste for order and who thinks he can live 
without it, will often be wrong in his judgments, 
and seldom considerate and conscientious in his 
actions. With a rule of life, the exact contrary 
happens; for, the rule which directs everything, 
constantly recalls the mind to God, renders the 
soul recollected, and thus the well-regulated order 
which distinguishes all the exterior actions is re- 
flected within. 

When we consider the numerous books written by 
the great doctors of the Church, and the prodigious 
works performed by certain men, we ask how they 
were able to accomplish so much. The secret of 
the mystery is that everything was weighed with 
regard to the employment of their time and viewed 
in the light of the maxim that ''living by rule mul- 
tiplies the hours," Furthermore, when we have a 
spirit of order about us and know how to arrange 



124 



IN A NEW WAY. 



all our moments, we can always find time for 
everything. Why is it that we see some people fre- 
quently idle as though they had nothing to do! 
Again we see them hurried on by an uneasy ardor 
which confounds and combines everything as 
though they would never be able to reach the end 
of anything ; or, always undecided as to what must 
be done, and, for the most part, employed in what 
they ought not to be doing at that particular time ? 
The reason is because they have no rule of life, 
or, if they have one, they do not follow it. *^Let 
all things be done decently and in order", say 
the Scriptures. ^'Keep order that order may 
keep you'', is a maxim, and a wise one, of Saint 
Bernard. 

The Catholic man or woman who draws up a 
rule of life and strives to follow it, does everything 
well and at the proper time. He resembles the 
good religious of whom the same Saint Bernard 
says: ^^He lives more purely, falls more rarely, 
rises more promptly, walks more warily, reposes 
more securely, dies more hopefully, is cleansed 
more speedily, and is rewarded more abun- 
dantly.'' 

Now, to spend the day in a truly christian man- 
ner, we must begin it with a spirit of recollection. 
On rising in the morning, reflect at such time 
that God is waiting for the first beat of our hearts, 
and that the Evil One is looking for the same. At 



THE GOOD catholic's DAILY LIFE. 125 

tlie moment of our awaking, says a writer, our soul 
is like a calm lake and the first care that ruffles 
it, is like a stone thrown into its midst. By this 
is meant that, as our first thoughts make deep and 
lasting impressions, we ought to be very careful 
to admit none save such as are good and pure. 

How often do we not read of the saints rising 
by night'', rising early", ''rising at dawn of 
day ! " In that vivid account which the Evangelist 
Saint Matthew gives of the Eesurrection he says : 
*'When it began to dawn, Mary Magdalen came 
to see the sepulcher." And, the royal psalmist 
says of himself: ''0 God, my God, to Thee do I 
watch at break of day." Ps. LXII. 

Few, indeed, have ever lived to a great age, and, 
fewer still have ever become distinguished for vir- 
tue or anything else, who were not in the habit of 
early rising. If you rise late, you, as a conse- 
quence, get to your work or occupation at a late 
hour, and so, everything goes wrong all day. Ben- 
jamin Franklin used to say that ''he who rises 
late may trot all day and not have overtaken his 
business at night"; and Dean Swift avers that 
"he never knew any one to arrive at greatness 
and eminence who lay abed in the morning." I 
can do every thing in bed, says the lazy wag, ex- 
cept to get out of bed. What a crying shame, 
how disgraceful, to see hale and hearty men and 
women turning out of bed at nine and ten o 'clock 



126 



IN A NEW WAY. 



in the morning, when so many in every walk of 
life have accomplished a considerable part of their 
day/s duties! There are a great many i^eople, 
nowadays, and, mayhap, we have run across some 
of them ourselves, who are at a loss to know what 
is the matter with them; why their ill-success and 
so on; and yet, not a very skillful diagnosis is 
required to discover the secret of their complaint. 
As we stroll onward from day to day, through sun 
and shade, and blinding blizzard, too, and, mark- 
ing as we go, how many toilers and workers there 
are in our cities and towns, and, also, how many 
idle ones who only stand and waif, we are im- 
pressed over and over again with the truth that 
there is something worse than overwork and the 
name of it is laziness. The man who toils till the 
great muscles of his arms stand out like cords and 
his broad shoulders are bent like the limbs of the 
Norway pine that faces the sea, is a king among 
men compared to the reckless do-nothings who 
hang around our street corners, the pool-room 
and the saloon, ready to take up a grievance at 
hearsay, or join a riot on general principles. Some 
day there is going to dawn a morning when the 
world will wake up to the fact that it is not the 
peaceable, honest, steady man who is not afraid 
to work nor to expend some of his well-earned 
wage in reputable undertakings that causes trou- 
ble, but the lazy lounger, the shiftless dead beat, 



THE GOOD catholic's DAILY LIFE. 127 

the niggardly poltroon, and, sometimes, the real 
nice young men, who would not work, if work were 
laid at their feet, but who are always alert for 
deeds of violence aimed at other peoples property 
and reputation. 

But, we are straying from our subject. To ac- 
quire the habit of rising early, one, of course, 
must retire early. Indeed nature seems to have 
so fitted things that we ought to rest in the fore- 
part of the night, one hour of sleep before mid- 
night, hygienists tell us, is worth more than two 
hours after. It should be a rule in every christian 
home, a rule which the head of the home should 
see is scrupulously adhered to, that all within that 
home should, ordinarily, have retired by ten 
o'clock, half -past ten at very latest. This, sup- 
posing we place the hour of rising between five 
and six o'clock in summer, and between six and 
seven in winter, allows from seven to nine hours 
of rest which is about what nature requires. As 
an old rhyme has it : 

"Six hours in sleep, in law's grave study, six. 
Four spend in prayer; the rest on nature fix/* 
or, again: 

"Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven. 
Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven." 

He, doubtless, who, from his youth onwards, ac- 
customs himself to early rising will be much more 



128 



IIs^ A XEW WAY. 



likely to become a virtuous and useful man and 
will pass Ms life in both happiness and peace. 

The first thoughts of a good Catholic on awak- 
ing in the morning, turn to his Creator. He blesses 
Him Wlio grants him to see the light of another 
day, sigTLs himself with the sign of the cross, and 
makes an offering of himself and all his thoughts, 
words and actions to His Maker. Then, after the 
necessary time spent in washing and dressing, he 
goes on his knees to otfer Him his homages in his 
morning prayer. All our actions should be di- 
rected to the Almighty, but more especially the 
first action of the morning, as it is by this we con- 
secrate to the Supreme Being the rest of the day 
and draw down the divine blessing upon our work. 
If it is in anyway possible for you to do so, assist 
at the adorable sacrifice of the mass every day of 
your life. People may talk of discoveries in sci- 
ence upsetting all our preconceived notions; but 
the revolution caused by scientific discovery is 
simply nothing compared to that wonderful revo- 
lution which will take place in your estimate of 
things, the day you discover the effect produced 
in your soul by assisting devoutly and attentively 
at holy mass. Saint Charles Borromeo, Arch- 
bishop of Milan, in his rule of life for the people 
says: Hear mass every day, if you can." Saint 
Alphonsus Ligouri counsels the same practice; 
and Saint Philip Neri obliged all his penitents to 



THE GOOD catholic's DAILY LIFE. 129 

hear mass every day. In purely Catholic coun 
tries we find large churches crowded with wor 
shippers before day break every morning; and 
you would be much surprised, indeed, in passing 
some of the grandest churches in some large cities 
to see all the coats, dinner pails, shovels and the 
like placed outside, while their owners have step- 
ped inside to catch an early mass on their way to 
work. Some of you may probably be able to recall 
that edifying account which the daily papers gave 
a few years ago of a saintly old man who passed 
away in Saint Mary^s church in Chicago, in the 
tower of which church he had made his home for 
the last fifteen years of his life. One of the priests 
connected with the church at the time and who 
knew him well, declared that he was the most 
pious man he ever met. Every morning of his 
life he arose at three o^clock, and never failed to 
attend the early mass at Saint Peter ^s church on 
Clark Street, after which he would hurry back to 
Saint Mary's for the six o'clock mass, at which 
mass he seldom failed to receive Holy Communion. 
Where faith prevails in a town or a parish, the 
good Catholic thinks nothing of rising a little 
earlier and of making the half hour of hearing 
mass as natural a part of the day's programme, 
as meals, work and relaxation. A college com- 
panion of mine who is now doing excellent work 
in the Master's vineyard, told me that he was 



130 



IN A NEW WAY. 



accustomed to ride or walk four miles every morn- 
ing to hear mass. It is said that all the Catholic 
kings of England, except, perhaps, Eufus and 
John, heard mass every day; and, even the unfor- 
tunate Henry VIII, in the happy times before he 
forsook the Faith of his Fathers, heard three and 
four masses every day. 

How many Catholic lawyers, merchants, and 
men engrossed in business, assist daily at the holy 
sacrifice; and how many more in easy and con- 
venient circumstances, and how many even of 
the laboring and industrial classes, could hear 
mass frequently during the week, if they so de- 
sired, but who never think of attending, save on 
Sundays and Days of Obligation. Will not your 
worldly affairs run smoother, if you are fortified 
daily by the graces that flow from the adorable 
Sacrifice of the Altar ^ "Will not your last hours 
be happier, if you hear mass oftener? For, there 
is, believe me, no surer way to secure final perse- 
verance and a happy death, than by going daily 
to mass. To be within reach of daily mass and to 
neglect this inestimable privilege and its benefits 
is enough to set the soul wondering at its own 
blindness. Oh, on that awful accounting day, which 
is slowly but surely coming for us all, and when 
it shall be asked of us, not what great possessions 
we have acquired, but how religiously we have 
lived, how will the lively faith and fervent piety of 



THE GOOD catholic's DAILY LIFE. 131 

the many good^souls that, thank God, are earnestly 
striving to keep themselves unspotted in the midst 
of this wicked world, arise to confound and con- 
demn the malice and sloth of some among us ! 

In every well regulated Catholic home there are, 
of course, appointed hours for meals; and, no 
member of the family thinks of seating himself 
at, or arising from table, without first making the 
sign of the cross and saying those sweet little 
prayers called the Grace before and after 
meals.'' In many families, the father as head of 
the home, or, in his absence, the mother asks the 
blessing aloud. During the course of the day the 
good Catholic is ever mindful in all that he does 
of the eye that seetli and the ear that heareth all ; 
he thinks of that dreadful and exacting account 
he must one day render to the Almighty for every 
thought and word and deed; he keeps ever pres- 
ent to his mind the shortness of time, the certainty 
of death and the length of eternity ; and he strives 
so to work and to live that, as his days pass along, 
they may not pass away. 

If it be a matter of importance to commence the 
day well and to continue it so throughout, it is of 
no less importance to finish it well, also ; and, how, 
or in what way, can we do this better than by 
assembling all the family, not only during the 
Lenten season, but every night of the year, for 
the recitation of the Eosary. Be faithful to this 



132 



IN A NEW WAY. 



beautiful and time-honored custom, and it will 
draw down upon you blessings, many and rich. 
The last chief act of the good Catholic's Daily Life 
is to say his night prayers and make his examina- 
tion of conscience — duties never omitted by those 
who seriously desire to advance in ^T-rtue. And, 
as at the beginning of the day you petitioned for 
grace to live well, so, at its close, remember to beg 
for the grace to die well. Then, having asked God's 
pardon, by an act of contrition for the sins of 
which you may find yourself gTiilty, make the sign 
of the cross with holy water, if you have it at 
hand; and, invoking the names of Jesus, Mary and 
J oseph, try to fall asleep with some pious thought 
in your mind. 

There is a tender sweetness interwoven with 
some of our phrases of affectionate greeting which 
we, oftentimes, employ without much thought and 
which familiar use robs of their real significance. 
Good and God spring from the same root and have 
the same meaning; and, as ^^Good-by'' means sim- 
ply ^*God be with you'' and ^'good-day" ^^God 
guard the day'' so ^^Good night" is only ^^God 
night" or ^^God guard the night." 

The little ones repeat it, as, with shining face 
and clean hands, and prayers said, they toddle off 
to bed. Parents and children, brothers and sis- 
ters, friends and friends exchange the wish. It 
is a churlish household, to be sure, in which these 



THE GOOD catholic's DAILY LIFE. 133 

gentle forms of speech are ignored, or do not 
exist. When we place our heads on our pillows at 
night we are like voyagers putting out upon an 
unknown sea. The bark of our life sails on in the 
darkness that sleep creates, while we are, often- 
times, so heedless and so thoughtless of the perils 
and dangers that lie around us. 

"Strange state of being! (for 'tis stiU to be) 
Senseless to feel, and with sealed eyes to see." 
Sleep is the image of death; and the end we 
make of every day is emblematical of the end we 
shall one day make of our lives. Each night, as 
we take our repose, we should not fail to regard 
our bed as a figure of the tomb and sleep as an 
image of death, ever mindful that, beyond all ques- 
tion, these figures will some day become for us 
realities. Finish, therefore, each day as though 
it were to be your last. **In peace,'' says the 
Psalmist, ^^I will sleep and I will rest." And 
again, ^ ' I have slept and I have taken my rest ; and 
I have risen up because the Lord hath protected 
me." Ps. III. 

"0 Mother of Mercy! 

O star of the wave ! 
O hope of the guilty! 

O light of the grave! 

Through thee may we come 

To the haven of rest; 
And see heaven's king 

In the courts of the blest." 



^ ' And she brought forth her first-born son. and 
wrapped Him up in swaddling clothes, and laid 
Him in a manger : because there was no room for 
them in the inn. ' ' Luke II — 7. 



CHRISTMASTIDE CONSIDERATIONS. 



The beautiful and time-lionored festival of 
Christmas has once more returned to us, bringing 
along with it its many pleasant remembrances and 
joyful associations. And, I do believe that, of the 
three hundred and sixty-five days of the year, 
there is none whose approach is so ardently looked 
forward to, whose arrival affords a greater abund- 
ance of peace and happiness to all classes and 
conditions, and whose departure is more generally 
regretted, then this same dear old feast day. What 
day, in fact, more apt to make the universe re- 
sound with joy and mirth; what day better calcu- 
lated to cheer the hearts of all mankind ; what day 
more rich in bounty and precious blessings could 
the fading year leave behind as a parting gift to 
mortals, than Christmas with all its attendant 
scenes of merriment and joy? None, to be sure. 
Far from dying out or growing lukewarm, the 
spirit of this glorious feast is becoming more uni- 
versal and more animated as time goes on. The 
bitter attacks of those who, forsooth, would reform 
its celebration by wiping out its characteristic 



138 



IN A NEVV^ WAY. 



merriment or joyous pastimes, and the cruel as- 
saults of the cold-hearted materialist who would 
crush the very object of its gladsome happiness 
and sweet peace, serve but to enliven and 
strengthen the enthusiasm which its approach 
awakens, until we find it at the present day^ the 
most anxiously awaited and gladly greeted festi- 
val throughout the year, not only for the grandeur 
of its religious solemnities, but also for the many 
and various circumstances of peace, hapx)iness and 
pleasure that follow in its train. Indeed, of all the 
old-time festivals, that of Christmas awakens the 
kindliest and most heartfelt associations. The 
services of our holy Church around this hallowed 
season are so extremely tender and inspiring, 
dwelling as they do, on that sweet story of old — 
the birth of the Babe of Bethlehem and the pas- 
toral scenes that accompanied its announcement; 
gradually increasing in intensity, fervor and 
pathos, till they break forth in full jubilee on the 
ever memorable morning that brought peace and 
good will to men. Truly, the call to happiness at 
this season of regenerated feeling seems general, 
while the spirit prevalent at this particular time 
inclines to throw open every door, to unlock every 
heart, and to blend all ranks in one warm, gen- 
erous flow of kindness and joy. In the days when 
England was Catholic, the very crowing of the 
cock, heard sometimes in the profound repose of 



CHRISTMAS-TIDE CONSIDERATIONS. 139 

the country, ^'telling the nightwatches to his 
feathery dames'-, was thought by many to an- 
nounce the approach of this sacred season. 

The immortal Shakespeare happily alludes to 
this in his celebrated drama of Hamlet: 

"Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes 
Wherein our Savior's birth was celebrated, 
This bird of dawning singeth all night long: 
And, then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad : 
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike. 
No fairy tales, no witch hath power to charm, 
So hallowed and so gracious is the time." 

Our own Washington Irving, in his fascinating 
sketches, writes most charmingly of the innocent 
joys and endearing associations of domestic 
felicity prevalent at this sacred season. Christ- 
mas, too, more than any other day, seems to be 
the children's feast day and holds out to their 
innocent hearts, anticipations, charms and 
pleasures to which the older folks are strangers. 
The boys and girls of the present long for the 
day dawn of this beautiful feast with emotions as 
gladsome and an alacrity as joyful as any that 
arose in the youthful breasts of the children of 
twenty years ago. And we, in the full grown 
years of manhood and womanhood, recalling the 
cherished associations that entwine themselves 
around that blissful, happy period, sigh, but sigh 
in vain, as we remember the Christmases of long 
ago — the Christmases of childhood — the ardor 



140 



m A m^Y way. 



with wHeh we awaited their coming and the regret 
with which we bade them adieu. ' ' It is a beautiful 
arrangement, also, ^'derived from days of yore, 
that this time-honored festival which commem- 
orates the birth of Him Who brought peace and 
love to men has been made the season for the 
gathering together of family connections and 
riveting with closer ties hearts which the cares 
and pleasures and sorrows of the world are con- 
tinually effecting to cast loose ; of calling back the 
loved ones who have launched forth on the sea 
of life and wandered widely asunder, once more 
to assemble about the paternal hearth, there to 
grow young again amid the endearing mementoes 
of childhood.'' 

Christmas, then, bids joy to all, young and old, 
rich and poor; invites us all to banish care and 
sadness and enjoy the sweet pleasures of its bright 
and merry season. Its very nature sanctifies it 
to all who understand its glorious mysteries ; and 
the faithful tradition that has preserved it for 
almost twenty centuries constrains even those 
whose ignorance or prejudice deny to them its 
true enjoyment to at least yield to the spirit of 
the day and join its general happiness. 

With this much in praise of the season itself 
and its characteristic features, it is but meet that 
we should bestow a thought on the magnificent 
event the day itself commemorates and occupy our- 



CHKISTMAS-TIDE CONSIDEKATIONS. 141 

selves for a while with Him Whose birth was the 
loundation of all the joy and happiness which 
Christmas brings. 

The long and lingering period of four thousand 
years had elapsed from the creation and fall of 
Adam, before the long-promised and anxiously 
expected Messiah made His appearance upon 
earth. During the intervening ages mankind was 
left grovelling in the mass of corruption and 
misery. Evil was rampant in the world; and, 
from every quarter, vice cried aloud to heaven 
for vengeance. The Almighty in His infinite good- 
ness and mercy was pleased from time to time to 
reiterate the promise of a Redeemer to fallen man, 
and gradually did He dispose all things for the 
accomplishment of His wonderful designs. Sinful 
man felt the need of a Deliverer. For the De- 
sired of Nations'* had the patriarchs prayed and 
the prophets sighed. The bare expectation and 
foreknowledge of the signal advantages which 
were to accrue to mankind from the sublime 
mystery of the Incarnation, filled all good men 
with hope and caused them ardently to sigh and 
incessantly to weep for the fulfillment of this long 
wished for event. Circumstances foreshadowed 
the near approach of the telling mystery and ap- 
pearances gave evidence that the advent of the 
Prince of Peace'' was not far off. In fine, when 
the seventy weeks of years, spoken of by the 



142 



IN A NEW WAY. 



prophet Daniel, were nearly expired; when the 
royal scepter had departed from • the House o£ 
Juda^ and the Fourth great Empire foretold by 
the same prophet was exalted to the pinnacle of 
its power and greatness; when the Roman wars 
were brought to a happy conclusion and the world 
enjoyed the blessings of a general peace, the time 
appointed for Human Redemption was at hand, 
and God's eternal decrees were brought about and 
executed. 

Precisely at this juncture, an edict was issued 
by the Roman Emperor, Augustus, commanding 
a general enrollment of all the subjects of his 
empire. The requirements of this official mandate 
necessitated all who were under allegiance to the 
Roman Eagle to repair to the respective places of 
their origin to have their names and their condi- 
tions recorded in a public register. The cold- 
hearted materialist and the worldly-minded stu- 
dent of history will recognize herein nothing 
beyond the political intrigues of a carnal ruler; 
but, the spiritual man, the man of piety and faith, 
will mount to loftier heights and will discern in 
this authentic act of public registration the designs 
of an all-ruling Providence "Who would thereby 
manifest to the world the royal descent of the 
Incarnate God, and WhOj till the end of time, 
will record the names of His faithful followers 
in the Book of Life Eternal, It was in obedience 



CHKISTMAS-TIDE CONSIDEEATIONS. 143 

to this imperial decree that our Blessed Lady and 
her chaste spouse, Saint Joseph, of the royal 
House of David, undertook a long and tedious 
journey of at least four days, through a moun- 
tainous country, from Nazareth where they then 
dwelt, to Bethlehem, a small town of the tribe of 
Juda. The difficulty of the way in the cheerless 
month of December, when short days and the win- 
try season incommoded the most sturdy traveller, 
was necessarily attended with many incon- 
veniences to a woman in Mary^s delicate condition. 
On their arrival in the town, they were informed 
that there was no room for them in the inns, on 
account of the great concourse of people at that 
particular time. Night falls, and Joseph seeks 
through the town for a shelter against its severi- 
ties. As their appearance betokened poverty and 
want, they were everywhere despised and rejected, 
and were, in consequence, obliged to repair for 
shelter to a cave on the side of a rock, commonly 
called a stable. They enter there without uttering 
complaint, or entertaining the slightest resentment 
against those who had rejected them, but blessing 
and thanking their Maker Who calls them to walk 
in the narrow way of sorrow and humiliation. 
Here, in this vile and contemptible place, in the 
late hours of a cold and frosty December night, 
upon the rough hewn boards of a manger, with 
the sharp and prickly straw as ihe^>nly quilting of 



144 



IN A NEW WAY. 



His crib, the Lord of Lords and the King' of kings, 
was pleased to be born. Here, when the night 
had half finished its course and the whole creation 
lay hushed in silence, the undefiled and immac- 
ulate Virgin, brought forth her first-born son, 
wrapped Him in swaddling clothes and laid Him 
in the Manger. A heavenly light illumines the 
poor abode where those two angelic beings, Mary 
and Joseph, humbly kneel in prayer, and wholly 
lost in contemplation of the stupendous mystery 
that is accomplished before them, while all else 
around was darkness. Yes, He Who needs no 
light to work by; Who so wonderfully fashioned 
those myriads of stars that shine with blinding 
brightness in the blue vault above, came at dead 
of night and when darkness was deepest. '^And 
Thou^ Bethlehem Ephrata, art a little one among 
the thousands of Juda."* 

If localities are consecrated in the eyes of whole 
generations by having been the birth places of 
great men, and spots where they produced immor- 
tal works of genius are held in veneration, what 
must we think of the hallowed spot where the In- 
carnate Son of God was born! Surely, it must be 
a place of pilgrimage while time runs on ; and they 
who cannot go thither in body, must often journey 
there in mind and heart. Bethlehem is, indeed, a 
most prolific and inviting theme, well worthy the 

*Michaeas V-2. 



CHEISTMAS-TTDE COITSTDERATIOlM S. 145 

exclusive contemplation of a long life. We see 
more there than we can possibly understand; and, 
even what we cannot understand, fills us full of 
love and it is love that makes us wise unto sal- 
vation. Its mysteries have reversed the judgments 
of the world ; they are the standards by which the 
last great Judgment shall be measured. The 
votaries of this twentieth century turn from them 
with the same disdain which the voluptuaries of 
Greece and Eome showed for them in the days of 
the persecuting Caesars. Yet, they are the 
material that saints are made of; and we, too, 
must court their friendship, would we arrive at 
the goal towards which they lead. 

*^Long centuries," I quote from Father Faber, 
^'have come and gone since the tidings of peace 
and good will were first sounded over the Judaean 
Hills and the world has plunged through many 
revolutions; in fact, almost everything has 
changed, for, time moves on, while eternity stands 
still. But the old Bethlehem of that momentous 
hour when the Incarnate Son of God lay on the 
ground amid the cattle in the cave, has never 
passed away. It lives, not only in the memory of 
faith, but in faith's actual realities as well. It 
lives, not alone in history, art and poetry, but, 
beyond and above all, in the ever-worshipful 
reality of the Blessed Sacrament. 

Eound the Tabernacle, which is our abiding 



146 



IN A NEW WAY. 



Bethlehem, goes on the same world of humble, si- 
lent devotion which surrounds the new born Babe. 
Oh, may it, be ours to realize, ever more and more, 
that the God of the Eucharist was once 
the helpless Babe of Bethlehem; and, may He, 
Who hesitated not to assume for love of 
us the humiliations of infancy, and Who deigns 
to dwell forever with us in the sweet sacrament of 
the Altar, be graciously pleased to inspire all who 
have received Him to-day, and all who throughout 
this wide, wide world shall receive Him till the end 
of time, with the dispositions to accord Him a 
warmer reception than was given Him by the cold- 
hearted inhabitants of that inhospitable town. 

"Divine Infant Jesus, Whom we behold laid upon 
straw in the poor stable in which you wished to be 
born, we adore You in union with Mary, Your Immacu- 
late Mother, and Holy Joseph, Your loving Foster 
Father, Like them we recognize You as our God; and, 
like them, while contemplating Your heavenly beauty, 
we open our hearts to unutterable sentiments of love, 
admiration, joy and gratitude. 

Grant, we beseech Thee, by their merits and prayers, 
that these sentiments may be ever with us when we 
kneel before Thee in the Tabernacle where the sacra- 
mental species that conceal Thee from our eyes, are 
but the swaddling clothes that enfold Thee to try 
our faith. Bless us. Holy Child, each and all; suffer 
us not to frustrate the designs of Thy mercy by our 
perverseness; but give us grace to begin with Thee 
a new life from this happy day of Thy joyful nativity, 
and, to persevere to the end, faithful and steady, in 
Thy service." 



'*He was in the world, and tlie world was made 
by Him, and the world knew Him not. He came 
nnto His own, and His own received Him not. 
But as many as received Him, He gave them power 
to be made the sons of God, to them that believe in 
His name.'' Saint John C. I. 



POST CHRISTMAS-TIDE CON- 
SIDERATIONS. 



The dear old festival of Christmas has once 
more passed away. The sighs and prayers, the 
longings and anticipations of the patriarchs and 
prophets of the olden days have met with timely 
fulfillment. The lowly shepherds have heard the 
heavenly song of the angels, have gone over to 
Bethlehem to pay their homages to the Child 
Christ, and have returned to their night watches 
on the Judaean Hills. The Wise Men of the 
East who left their country, their homes and their 
affairs, and journeyed Westward, they knew not 
whither, led nightly by the luminous star that 
moved onward in its silent groove, have found at 
last the dear object of their search; have laid their 
treasures at the feet of the new born King, and 
have gone back to their latticed palaces and their 
royal tents. The Advent versicle, ^'Eorate coeli 
desuper et nubes pluant Justum" — ''Let the heav- 
ens distil as the dew, and the clouds rain down 
the Just One'' — will cease awhile to resound 
through the churches of Christendom, for the stu- 
pendous mystery of the Incarnation has been ac- 



150 



IN A NEW WAY. 



complislied and the ^'expected of nations" has 
appeared upon earth. Yet, the gospel of to-day 
is still replete with sweet visions of the Crib, and 
holy Church in her offices and prayers will; for 
some Sundays to come, lovingly linger on the 
Childhood and Boyhood of Christ, and will con- 
tinue to hold out to us the great mystery of the 
Incarnation which that hallowed festival com- 
memorates. This sublime mystery of Christ In- 
carnate in the flesh, above all other mysteries, 
merits our most serious thought; challenges our 
most profound respect and homage ; and should be, 
at this particular season, the main object of our 
piety and devotion. Therein do w^e behold dis- 
played, to an amazing degree, the incomprehen- 
sible power, wisdom and goodness of God. There- 
in do we discover a prodigy of omnipotence to 
excite our astonishment, and a prodigy of love to 
enkindle in our souls an ardent affection for the 
Lord of Life and Light. Eeally, this adorable 
mystery of the Word made flesh seems almost be- 
yond the powers of speech to express. It lies at 
the bottom of all science; it is the secret beauty 
in all art; the completeness of all true philosophy, 
and the point of arrival and departure of all his- 
tory. The destinies of nations as well as of indi- 
viduals group themselves around it. It purifies 
all happiness, chastens all sorrow ; is the cause of 
all we see and the pledge of all we hope for. 



POST CHRISTMAS-TIDE CONSIDERATIONS. 151 

People in the remotest corners of the earth who 
have never heard of a Cicero, a Napoleon or a 
Washington, have heard of Christ Incarnate in 
the flesh. This one event has written its name on 
every page of history for two thousand years. 
Back to it humanity looks with most confident 
hope for relief from its burdens and sighs, and for 
inspiration in all that is highest and noblest in 
human endeavor. It is a prodigy which angels 
and men must be content to admire, without being 
able to fathom. All mystery, in fact, seems here 
to attain its absolute climax. That the all-powerful 
Creator of the universe, the supreme, infinite, self- 
existing and absolutely independent Master of 
whatever is or ever shall be, should condescend 
to clothe Himself with our humanity, is sufficient, 
and more than sufficient, to feed and hold en- 
tranced in ecstatic adoration the flaming intelli- 
gence of a seraph during the never-ending ages of 
eternity. There have been, and, there are yet, 
men whose aspirations are of so high and holy an 
order that they feel humbled at the thought of 
the inferior part of their nature— the burden of 
the flesh which they are obliged to carry — its low 
desires and inclinations, its frequent and trouble- 
some necessities. Their spirit almost rebels at the 
needs of their body, the time that must be devoted 
to it, and the care that must be expended in sup- 
plying its demands for food and clothing, rest and 



152 



IN A NEW WAY. 



recreation. Tims, did a Saint Anthony long for a 
a tardier rising of the morning sun that he might 
prolong his nightly communion with his Maker; 
thus, have the holy ones of God always felt and, 
with insatiable desire, have they prayed with the 
renowned Apostle of the Gentiles to be freed from 
the body of this death. 

Now, if mortals like ourselves feel so keenly 
the humiliations of our lower nature, who, then, 
of all created beings, can possibly conceive what 
an infinite condescension it must have been on the 
part of the Almighty to descend to our low estate 
and assume the trappings of our frail humanity. 
Truthfully and beautifully has the inspired writer 
expressed it when he says that God annihilated 
Himself in taking on Himself the form and simili- 
tude of a slave — Phil. II — 7 ; for, what, in reality, 
is the Incarnation of the Son of God but the most 
astonishing humiliation of the Deity, the annihila- 
tion of a God, since there is an immeasurable dis- 
tance between God Who is an infinite and im- 
mense being, and man who is a mere contemptible 
nothing ! 

In the other mysteries of human redemption we 
see nothing, after all, remarkably astounding; that 
a God made man should embrace poverty, con- 
tempt, sufferings and death on a cross was but the 
consequence, and, as it were, the engagements of 
the human nature with which He invested Him- 



POST CHKISTMAS-TIDE CONSIDERATIONS. 153 



self. But, that a being of infinite majesty, God as 
He is, should make Himself man ; that the eternal 
Son of the eternal Father should divest Himself, 
so to phrase it, of the rays of His glory, clothe 
His omnipotence with our weakness, enclose His 
immensity in a little body, and be born in time 
under the veil and figure of a child, under the 
semblance and similitude of a slave, is something 
more strikingly wonderful than the creation of the 
world out of nothing, or balancing the universe 
on a finger. The Sacred Books speaking of this 
divine mystery, not only say that the Son of God 
became man, but make use of an expression which 
gives us to understand that He chose in man what 
was most gross and terrestrial. He made Him- 
self like unto us ; He espoused our nature ; He re- 
mained for the space of nine months in the womb 
of His mother; and, like other children, was He 
subject to the humiliations, infirmities and suffer- 
ings of babyhood and childhood. There is some 
proportion between man and the smallest insect 
that creeps upon the earth; but, there never was, 
there never will be, there never can be, the least 
proportion between God and man. The whole of 
this charming and stupendous mystery of Christ 
Incarnate is so full of wonders that it has where- 
with to delight the minds of all mortals, be their 
station, their disposition, their capabilities what 
they may. It has as many-sided aspects as there 



154 



IN A NEW WAY. 



are individuals to consider it, and it is so infinitely 
rich in all that is precious in thought and feeling 
that no two persons can consider it from precisely 
the same view-point, or even treat it in exactly 
the same manner. It is the richest mine in the 
universe; and, what is more, it can never be ex- 
hausted. Nor does it belong to one company or 
corporation, for it is the common property of the 
human race. Each man may enter on the field of 
exploration and investigation without fear of en- 
croaching upon the territory of another. It is 
deep enough, high enough, and long enough to 
satisfy alL So much, and so very, very much, pre- 
sents itself before me to be said on this beautiful 
topic, that I am, in truth, loath to leave off. Our 
search in this unfailing mine of wealth and beauty 
would, however, prove almost useless were we to 
go out of it without striking a vein of practical 
and profitable utility. Let us, then, advance a 
little farther. One grand purpose of the Incar- 
nation of Christ was, as we know full well, to unite 
the creature with the Creator, and to re-unite man 
with his fellowman. '\Yhen the World's Redeemer 
came, the earth was a tomb of selfishness and of 
fratricide. The widow wept, the poor pined, the 
sorrowful sighed, and the world mocked their mis- 
ery and despised their lot; and, as they went down 
into their graves, they cursed, with dark and 
bitter curses, the heathen world which had ever 



POST CHRISTMAS-TIDE CONSIDERATIONS. 155 

eyed them with looks of scorn. Joy laughed at 
sorrow, and sorrow heaped imprecations on joy. 
The voice of the world knew not the tone of kind- 
ness, and the eyes of the world had lost the gift 
of tears. Christ came to restore the severed union, 
and bind all men together in the bonds of holy 
love. In the shadow of that manger cradle, the 
world was first taught the sublime and God-like 
lesson of unselfishness and devotion. Our en- 
lightened twentieth century boasts of the Brother- 
hood of Man and makes it even the watchword of 
its political parties. Had there been no divine 
Babe in the Manger Crib of Bethlehem, the marble 
heart of this materialistic and selfish age would 
never, in its highest aspirations, have dreamed of 
the doctrine of Christian love. After so many 
generations of Christian civilization and heroism, 
pouring the light of their example upon us, how 
far are Vv^e, yet, with all our vaunted progress, 
from the teaching of Bethlehem. To how many, 
even among those who glory in their knowledge 
and belief, can the words of Saint John the Divine 
meet with fitting application : ^ 'He came unto His 
own and His own received Him not.'^ We look 
around us in this Christian land and we behold 
multitudes in the abyss of misery and degrada- 
tion, and few to help them. We read of the 
World's Fair City with its one hundred and 
twenty thousand destitute poor; Boston, the 



156 



IJT A NEW WAY. 



Athens of America, with its forty thousand, and 
so on with the rest. We see women struggUng 
for so miserable a pittance that, oftentimes, they 
stand face to face with the terrible alternative of 
starvation or death; we see Capital in the luxury 
of its palaces gTinding down the bread-winner as 
though he were an ignoble slave ; we see landlords 
drawing rent from tenements that would not be fit 
abodes for savages. And why? Because we have 
forgotten Bethlehem. The supreme lesson which 
the Child Christ teaches us on this dear and hal- 
lowed feast day is unselfish, personal service for 
man's elevation and happiness, totally regardless 
of race, creed or color. A love as wide, as high 
and as deep as that which shone from out the 
beaming eyes of the new-born Babe in the cheer- 
less midnight cave. A love which spreads its 
wings of compassion and mercy on the poor, the 
sorrow-stricken and the afflicted ; a love whose feet 
are never weary, whose hands are never tired, 
shedding benediction on the paths of the unhappy. 

As Michael Angelo saw in the rough block of 
marble the angel struggling to be free, so Chris- 
tian love will see in every child of man, no mat- 
ter how degraded he may be, the human face 
divine and will turn his gaze from the dust of 
earth to the stars of heaven. Fancy this self- 
denying love the ruling power of the world for a 
single year ! How many ills and heart breaks 



POST CHEISTMAS-TIDE COKSIDEEATIONS. 157 

would be swept from human life! How many 
problems solved, before which statesmen faint in 
despair ! Oh, for a world animated with the sweet 
and abiding spirit of the Babe of Bethlehem; al- 
ways engaged in thoughtful, generous, helpful 
acts ; every one absorbed in Christlike endeavors ! 
Each man going about doing good; no men lead- 
ing double lives; no women by their worldliness 
and pride driving to perdition those to whom they 
should lend a helping hand ; no cruelty to one an- 
other; no one to fawn and smile and secretly 
wound; no harsh judgments, no cutting remarks, 
no unkind words. No tramp, tramp, tramp of 
millions to kill one another; no divorce suits, no 
divided families; no professing christians treat- 
ing one another like heathens; no hypocrites in 
the Church, trying to pay Peter by robbing Paul, 
persistently and defiantly basking in the comfort 
of privileges that others are paying for; no 
scandal-mongers; none growing rich at the ex- 
pense of the welfare of their brethren ; all bearing 
one another \s burdens, hiding one another's 
faults ; all living by the sweet law of charity, carry- 
ing out the golden rule, doing unto others as we 
would that others should do unto us/' 

All this you will tell me is an idle, impracti- 
cable dream. No, it is not. It is a heaven- 
ordained reality. Christ lived it ; died for it ; and, 
on its foundation, built the temple of our Faith. 



158 



m A KEW V\'AY. 



It is the touchstone of Christianity. The Chris- 
tian who sneers at it, or who puts obstacles in the 
way of its realization, is a would-be-destroyer of 
the Babe of Bethlehem, a traitor to the cause of 
Christ. Every christian, standing in the shadow 
of the manger-cradle, is bound in thought and 
word and deed and jDrayer, to hasten the dawning 
of that Christ-day when love shall be crowned 
queen of the Christian world forever. And, if this 
be so, what is our manifest duty! Why, to see to 
it that we make this Christ-like spirit, the univer- 
sally and permanently abiding spirit of the world. 
Our ability may be inadequate to the task of every 
where enthroning and endlessly perpetuating this 
much-to-be-desired condition; but, it is great 
enough to lend, at least, some help towards these 
heaven-born ends. Try it. Turn into the ranks 
of the great Master, Christ Incarnate ; follow His 
leadership, and thus help to hasten the coming of 
that ever much-to-be-desired and thrice-blessed 
time when this Christ-like spirit shall reig-n in 
every heart through every season and through 
every day of each and every year. 



4 



From tlie woman came the beginning of sin, and 
tliroiigh her we all die. Ecclesiasticiis — C — XXV. 
— V33. 



ORIGINAL SIN, 



It is difficult, indeed, for us to form an adequate 
idea of the beauty of the Garden of Eden; but, 
if it was all that the creations of art and poetry 
have made it, and we may well suppose it was, it 
was certainly a most charming abode. In order 
to arrive at a closer and a more vivid conception 
of its beauty, and to enable us to understand bet- 
ter and appreciate more fully our subject, sup- 
pose we go in spirit through that terrestrial para- 
dise, picture to our mind's eye the delights of that 
favored spot and judge for ourselves. 

Eden was a large and resplendent garden in 
which the Almighty had poured out with a boun- 
tiful hand and in extraordinary profusion the 
choicest gifts of nature. Eivers, beautiful in their 
placid flow, irrigated its rich and verdant soil; 
hills of surpassing loveliness and groves of re- 
freshing coolness, diversified its surface; while 
the distant mountains, majestic in their towering 
heights, lent enchantment to the view. Flowers 
of nameless hues and indescribable sweetness per- 
fumed the soft air; while fruits, innumerable and 



162 



IN A NEW WAY. 



luscious, were there to gratify the taste and please 
the eye. The days were cloudless and fair; the 
nights, supremely delightful ; and time was a con- 
tinued and uninterrupted succession of peace and 
happiness and joy. Neither hunger; nor thirst; 
nor heat; nor cold; nor labor nor fatigue ; no fear; 
no anxiety and no trouble of mind disturbed the 
unruffled calmness of the privileged inhabitants of 
those sylvan shades. 

Saint Augustine has left us a most touching 
description of the happy condition of our first par- 
ents in the Garden of Paradise. ^'No e^^.l,'' he 
says, could befall these favorites of the Most 
High. From within themselves, they had no in- 
firmity, no suffering ; from without, no sorrow, no 
danger. The most perfect health glowed in their 
bodies ; while in their souls reigned a calm repose 
and undisturbed happiness. No sadness could find 
its way into the precincts of this garden of bliss. 
From God, the wealthiest source of all happiness, 
there flowed into it, in abundant streams, a torrent 
of uninterrupted enjoyment. All nature was sub- 
ject to their sway. Without difficulty, without 
even an effort, they possessed a profoimd knowl- 
edge of things such as is now attained only by the 
greatest scholars after years of hard and toilsome 
study. They, in very truth, were the happy mon- 
archs of the earth. Even the angels, those blessed 
inhabitants of heaven, waited by the order of their 



OEIGINAL SIN. 



163 



great Creator upon, and went about with them as 
friends with friends. More than this. The Al- 
mighty and All-holy God, recognizing in them ?n 
image of His own unequalled holiness, conversed 
most familiarly and confidentially with them like 
an atfectionate father with his devoted children. 
And, as a last and crowning blessing, had they re- 
mained faithful to the command of their Maker, 
they would not have been doomed to die, but, by 
a special grace, the Almighty would have pre- 
served them by the fruit of the Tree of Life in a 
state of youthful strength; and, later, would have 
translated them, body and soul, without passing 
through the pains and terrors of death, into the 
still more delightful and perfect happiness of 
heaven. ' ' 

As one of England's favorite poets longed for 
a lodge in some vast wilderness where the strug- 
gles and cares of life might never reach him more, 
so are there not times and moments in the lives 
of every one of us, when the soul oppressed with 
pain, worn with toil, tired of tumult, sickened at 
the sight of guilt, trembling in its faith, baffled in 
its hope, wounded in its love, almost longs for 'Hlie 
wings of a dove" that it might fly away'' and 
take refuge * ^ 'mid the shady bowers, " ^ ' the ver- 
nal airs," '^tlie roses without thorns," the quiet, 
the beauty, the loveliness of the Garden of Eden. 

Indeed, Paradise and its favored inhabitants are 



164 



IN A NEW WAY. 



in such sweet accordance, and together form a 
scene of such tranquil bliss that, at first, we might 
almost be led to envy our first parents and regret 
man's first transgression and the fruit of that 
forbidden tree, whose mortal taste brought death 
into the world and all our woes, ' ' did we not know 
that holy Church sings in her office of Easter Sat- 
urday mxorning: ''0 happy fault which merited 
such and so great a Eedeemer,'' and did we not 
know full well that there is yet a higher happiness 
than theirs — a happiness won through struggle 
with inward and outward foes — the happiness and 
power of moral victory, the happiness of disinter- 
ested sacrifice and widespread love — the happi- 
ness of boundless hope which the blessed death of 
Jesus holds out to those who are faithful to the 
end. 

But, why, you ask, was Eden so charmingly 
lovely ? Why did its peaceful, happy days pass so 
calmly by? Why were those masterpieces of crea- 
tion so dear to God! Why did He converse so 
familiarly with themf Why did all created things 
obey them? I will tell you. Because they were 
innocent. The history of Paradise Lost and the 
story of the Fall of the Progenitors of our race 
are familiar to us all. We learned them in the by- 
gone days of childhood; in those blissful, happy 
years when we, too, were innocent, — when our 
young minds were, as yet, incapable of realizing 



OEIGINAL SIN. 



165 



the sad and bitter consequences of that which sub- 
sequent years have taught us. 

Lest in the midst of the delights in which the 
terrestrial Paradise abounded, our First Parents 
might unwarily forget their Creator and Bene- 
factor, on Whom they solely depended for the en- 
joyment of them all, the Almighty restrained them 
in one particular point and thereby gave them an 
opportunity of showing at once their obedience 
and their gratitude. The precept was but one; 
easy^ just and simple. In the middle of the Gar- 
den of Eden was planted the ^^tree of life" and 
near it grew the ^^tree of the knowledge of good 
and evil." ^'You may eat," said God, ^'of every 
tree that grows in Paradise, excepting the tree of 
the knowledge of good and evil ; that tree alone you 
must not touch; for, if you do, you shall most as- 
suredly die." But there was one, who, having 
been already ruined by his pride, and whom in 
punishment an Almighty Power had hurled head- 
long from the ethereal sky to bottomless perdition, 
resolved to try his utmost malice against them, 
and deprive them at once, if he could, both of their 
innocence and happiness. He was galled with 
envy to see two creatures whose low beginning was 
from the slime of the earth, thus blessed and 
happy in their fidelity to their Maker, while he, 
an original inhabitant of heaven, was cast down 
into the lowest disgrace and misery. He, there- 



166 



m A NEW WAY, 



fore, began to execute the ruinous design lie had 
planned against them and undertook to destroy 
the race of mankind in the very root. Accord- 
ingly, he made use of the serpent; and, doubting 
not that the easiest way to succeed would be to 
seduce the woman first, he thus addressed her: 
Why has not God permitted you to eat at will of 
all the fruits of this garden I He has, replied Eve : 
^'we eat of every fruit in the garden except one, 
and that one God has forbidden us to touch, lest 
we die.'' ^*Ah, it is not the fear of your dying,'' 
answered the serpent, ^'but the apprehension of 
your knowing too much, which has induced God to 
lay such a restraint upon you. " ^ ' No, ye shall not 
die." ^^How could ye?" ^ ^ By the fruit r ' ^'Wliy 
it gives you life and knowledge. " ^ ' By the threat- 
ener?" ^^Look on me, me who have touched and 
tasted, yet both live and have even attained a 
higher lot than fate intended. " ^ ^ Shall that, then, 
be closed to man which to the beast is open; or, 
will God incense His ire against you for such a 
petty trespass?" ^'Why, then, was this precept 
given out to awe you! '\Yliy but to keep ye low 
and ignorant ? Full well He Imows that, in the day 
ye eat thereof, your eyes which seem so clear yet 
are but dim, shall be perfectly opened and ye shall 
be as gods, knowing both good and evil." 

Thus spoke the wily serpent; and Eve, instead 
of turning away her ear as she ought from such 



ORIGINAL SIN". 



167 



deceitful language, not only listened, but was even 
pleased with her seducer. She was flattered with 
his promises ; she sucked the poison of his words 
into her very soul; she looked longingly at the 
fruit ; and, concluding it to be as delicious to the 
taste as it was pleasing to the eye, she put forth 
her hand; she took it; she ate of it. Yes, in an 
evil hour, reaching forth her hand to the forbidden 
fruit, she plucked it; she ate of it. Earth felt the 
wound, and nature, sighing through all her works, 
gave signs of woe that all was lost. Thus was Eve 
gradually led to transgress the command of her 
Maker ; thus did sin enter into the world. For, no 
sooner had she eaten of the forbidden fruit than 
she offered it to her husband who, rather than be 
the cause of any uneasiness to the spouse he loved, 
did also eat thereof ; and thus, by a sinful compli- 
ance, renounced that fidelity which he owed to his 
Creator. This is the transgression of which death 
and all the train of human miseries is the fatal 
consequence. This is the sin too enormous in its 
guilt for words to express, since in the father it 
ruined his whole posterity. 

With the fall of our First Parents, vanished the 
pleasing prospect of their happiness. What had 
hitherto been their joy, began to alarm and ter- 
rify them : they heard the voice of God, but it was 
no longer a voice of gladness, but, rather, a sound 
of terror in their ears. Trembling with fear, they 



168 



m X NEW WAY. 



fled and Md themselves among the thickest of the 
trees. Being severely reprimanded for his dis- 
obedience, Adam began to exculpate himself upon 
the weak but cruel pretence that the woman had 
first offered to him the fruit. The woman, hearing 
herself thus accused, sought, likewise, to shift the 
blame from herself and fix it upon the serpent 
that had deceived her. But, in a formal violation 
of His precepts, God admits of no such excuses : 
He cursed the serpent upon the spot as the prime 
promoter of the sin ; condemned him to creep along 
the earth and to eat the dust thereof all the days 
of his life ; and concluded by pronouncing his dis- 
grace and final overthrow by a woman who, in her 
seed, should hereafter crush his head. He then 
addressed Himself to the two other offenders that 
stood before Him and sentenced them both to the 
most afflicting penalties which their posterity 
severely feel to the present day. He told the 
woman, in particular, that He would multiply her 
sufferings ; that in bringing forth her children she 
should groan with pain and be forever subject to 
her husband's power. To Adam He said that, 
since he had preferred the woman's voice to the 
voice of God, the earth should, therefore, be 
cursed; that, notwithstanding his hard labor to 
render it fertile, it should produce for him briars 
and thorns ; and that in the sweat of his brow he 
should eat his bread, until he should return to thQ 



OPJGIXAL SIN. 



169 



dust out of which he had heen taken. After this, 
He clothed them with the skins of beasts; and, to 
make them still more sensible of their sinful folly. 
He ironically exclaimed: "Behold, Adam is be- 
come like one of us ! ' ^ By experience he has now 
the knowledge of good and evil". Never again shall 
he come near the '^tree of life," lest he should be 
also for eating of its fruit and live forever. The 
Almighty then drove them out of Paradise; and, 
at the entrance, placed an angel with a flaming 
sword to prevent their return. Thus were our un- 
happy parents compelled to quit that garden of 
delights ; thus were they sent forth to bewail their 
miseries in a desert land, where they met with 
nothing but the melancholy marks of their own 
disobedience. 

Adam and Eve going forth from the Garden 
of Eden, broken down with sorrow, cast, as we 
may well suppose they did, many a longing, linger- 
ing look backward upon those peaceful shades. 
The recollection of the happiness they had just lost 
was still fresh in their minds; and, having, now, 
the experience of evils which, in the state of inno- 
cence, they had never known, they must have 
drawn many and many a bitter comparison be- 
tween the two extremes. 

Adam and Eve going forth from the Garden 
of Eden, conscious of their wrong doing and their 
guilt, the first light of natural knowledge not yet 



170 



m A NEW WAY. 



extinguished in them, their notions of good and 
evil more clear than onrs shall ever be, must have 
been sensibly and inexpressibly affected to see 
themselves so miserably fallen from their high 
estate. Surely, their hearts must have been ready 
to burst with grief at the bitter prospect of so 
many of their helpless children who were to perish 
eternally on their account. For, having once con- 
sented to the sin, however exemplary their after 
penance might be, they could not possibly prevent 
the fatal consequences of it, nor save either them- 
selves or their children. The work of their sal- 
vation required the grace and mediation of a God 
made Man, whose merits should be equally infinite 
with His mercy. This, Jesus Christ has become 
for them and for us and has done it in so wonder- 
ful and so plentiful a manner that, as was previ- 
ously remarked, the Church calls the sin of Adam 
in some sort a necessary sin and a fortunate trans- 
gression. 

Of the subsequent history of our primeval par- 
ents, after paradise was closed against them, we 
know but very, very little. We may well believe, 
however, that they passed the remaining days of 
their earthly career in hard and bitter penance. 
Scripture closes the narrative of their life-story 
in the following significant words: And all the 
days that Adam lived were nine hundred and 
thirty years and he died. 



ORIGIITAL SIN. 



171 



The sin of our First Parents, as you know, had 
this peculiarity that it descended, together with all 
its disastrous consequences, upon their posterity, 
and it is, as you know, called Original Sin. The 
doctrine of original sin and the mode of its trans- 
mission to us, are mysteries which the Catholic 
Church believes and teaches on the authority of 
God Himself Who reveals them. To the mind un- 
enlightened by faith and to those who are unwill- 
ing to accept what their finite intellects cannot 
grasp, this, like all other mysteries, bristles with 
doubts and difficulties. Yet, it is not by any means 
out of harmony with reason and, to some extent, 
admits of explanation. 

Almighty God decreed to raise human nature to 
a supernatural order of love and friendship with 
Himself, with a right and duty of aspiring to Him 
as our supernatural end; and, being preserved 
from death, of finally possessing and enjoying 
Him forever in heaven. No sooner did Almighty 
God create Adam than He bestowed upon him, as 
head of the whole human family, all the super- 
natural gifts called holiness and original justice 
to be transmitted, together with human nature it- 
self, to all his children. Unhappily, Adam, by his 
sin of disobedience, which was also a sin of pride, 
ambition and disbelief, forfeited, or, more prop- 
erly speaking, rejected that original justice; and 
we as members of the human family of which he 



172 



m A -NEW WAY. 



was the head, are also implicated in that gTiilt of 
self -spoliation, or rejection and deprivation of 
those supernatural gifts; not, indeed, on account 
of our having willed it with our personal will, but 
on account of having willed it with the will of our 
first parents to whom we are linked by nature as 
members to their head. Hence, it appears that not 
the whole sin of Adam is imputed to us ; not his 
pride, not his ambition, not his disbelief, not even 
his disobedience regarded only as such; in short, 
not his sin, in so far as it was only personal to 
Adam ; but, we are implicated in that special guilt 
of his sin in which he could and did act as head 
of the human family; for, only in that capacity 
could the guilt of his act be attributed to his pos- 
terity and be transmitted with nature itself to 
every human being descended from him. 

Original sin, then, understand, is distinguished 
from actual, or personal sin, in this: actual or 
personal sin, is the sin which we personally with 
our own free will commit; whilst original sin is 
that wmch our human nature committed with the 
will of Adam, in whom all human nature was in- 
cluded, and with whom our human nature is united 
as a branch to a root, as a child to a parent, as 
men who partake with Adam the same nature we 
have derived from him, and as members of the 
same human family of which Adam was the head. 
If my hand strike a fellow creature unjustly, 



ORIGINAL SIN. 



173 



thongli the liand have no will of its own, yet it is 
considered guilty, not, as \dewed in itself, but inas- 
much as it is united to the rest of the body and 
to the soul, forming one human being, and thus 
sharing in the will of the soul with which it is 
connected. In the same manner, the sin committed 
inwardly by the human will, by vicious thought 
or foul desire, belongs to the whole human being. 
The teaching of the Catholic Church, then, with 
regard to Original Sin is this : Adam by his sin, 
not only caused harm to himself, but to the whole 
human race; by it he lost that supernatural jus- 
tice and holiness which he received gratuitously 
from God, and lost it, not only for himself, but 
likewise for all of us ; that, having stained himself 
with the sin of disobedience, he has transmitted, 
not only death and other bodily pains to the whole 
human race, but, also, sin which is the death of the 
soul. Hence, the decree of the Council of Trent 
confirms the words of Saint Paul: '^Wherefore 
by one man sin entered into this world, and by sin 
death, and so death passed upon all men, in whom 
all have sinned. — ^Eomans V — 12. And Saint 
Augustine, commenting upon the words of David, 
the Eoyal Prophet; ^'For behold I was conceived 
in iniquities and in sins did my mother conceive 
me," says : David was not born in adultery, for 
he was born from Jesse, a just man and his wife.'' 
Why, then, does he say that he was conceived in 



174 



IN A NEW WAY. 



iniquity, unless, because iniquity is derived from 
Adam? 

As there is hardly a mystery of faith which, at 
some time or other, has not met with doubt and 
denial, so, also, has it been with the doctrine of 
Original sin. In the early part of the fifth cen- 
tury, Pelagius, a native of Britain, and a man of 
acuteness and subtilty, went to Eome and began a 
cautious denial of Original sin and the necessity 
of grace. He drew to himself an able disciple, 
named Celestius, who contributed, greatly, to the 
diffusion of his impious tenet. Celestius passed 
over to Africa and, being bolder and more enter- 
prising than his master, there taught without any 
reserve or concealment, that the sin of the first 
man does not in any way affect his descendants; 
and that man is perfectly able to fulfill the law of 
God without the aid of grace. Saint Augustine re- 
futed these propositions with admirable learning 
and skill : he proved from the words of Holy Scrip- 
ture, and from the sacrament of Baptism, that we 
are born in sin and that the effects of Adam's 
transgression are felt by all his descendants; he 
showed from the prayer our Lord has taught us 
that we have all need of grace to dispose our wills 
and to aid them in their labor and conflict. The 
Pelagian scandal stimulated the zeal of the Bish- 
ops of Africa. They assembled a Council ; defined, 
in accordance with the Catholic faith, that the sin 



OEIGINAL SIK. 



175 



of Adam Has been transmitted to his descendants, 
and forwarded tlieir decrees to Pope Innocent I 
for confirmation. The Sovereign Pontiff applaud- 
ed their zeal in maintaining the purity of the faith ; 
solemnly condemned Pelagius, Celestius and their 
followers ; and declared them excommunicated un- 
less they renounced tlieir errors. It was on the 
occasion of receiving this judgment from the Vicar 
of Christ that Saint Augustine gave expression 
to those well known and memorable words: 
*^Eoma locuta est, quaestio finita est.'' ^^Eome 
has spoken, the question is at rest." 

It is evident, therefore, from the history and 
condemnation of the Pelagian heresy that the doc- 
trine of Original sin was held and professed by 
the christians of the early Church; and, in fact, 
it may be said that this belief is as old as the 
human race itself ; for, traces of this ancient tradi- 
tion are found among all the nations of the earth, 
insomuch that, the impious Voltaire was obliged 
to confess that ' ' The Fall of Man is the base of the 
theology of all ancient people.'' 

Indeed, with the author of the ^ ^ Genius of Chris- 
tianity" we must say that, unless we admit this 
truth, known by tradition to all nations, we become 
involved in impenetrable darkness. Without Orig- 
inal sin, how shall we account for the vicious pro- 
pensity of our nature continually combatted by a 
secret voice whicli whispers that we were formed 



176 



IN A NEW WAY. 



for virtue ? Witliont a primitive f aU, how shall we 
explain tlie aptitude of man for affliction — that 
sweat which fertilizes the rugged soil — the tears, 
the sorrows, the misfortunes of the righteous ; the 
triumphs, the unpunished success of the wicked! 
It was because they were unacquainted with this 
degeneracy, that the philosophers of antiquity fell 
into such strange errors, and invented the notion 
of reminiscence. 

But, is it not an injustice, an absurdity, to 
imagine that we should all be punished for the 
fault of our First Parents ! Without undertaking 
to decide whether the Almighty is right or wrong 
in making us sm^eties for one another, all that we 
know, and all that it is necessary for us to know 
in our present condition is that such a law exists. 
Aftei all, do we not daily see the child punished 
for the wayward parent, and the crime of a villain 
recoiling upon a virtuous descendant ? And, what 
does this prove, if not the doctrine of Original sin ? 
We know that the innocent son generally sutfers 
the punishment due to the guilty father ; that this 
law is so universally interwoven in the principles 
of things as to hold good even in the physical 
order of the universe. When an infant comes into 
the world, diseased from head to foot from its 
father's excesses, why do you not comi^lain of the 
injustice of nature? What has the little innocent 
done that it should endure the punishment of an- 



ORIGINAL SIN". 



177 



other's vices? Well, the diseases of the soul are 
perpetuated like those of the body, and man is 
punished in his remotest posterity for the fault 
which introduced into his nature the first leaven 
of sin. 

Besides the guilt of Original sin, which is that 
habitual state of sinfulness in which we are born — 
because our human nature is justly considered to 
have consented in Adam to the rejection of 
original justice — there is, also, in man the stain 
of Original sin, entailing in the human soul the 
privation of that supernatural lustre which, had 
we been born in the state of original justice and 
holiness, we should have possessed in common 
with our First Parents. Now, as neither Adam, 
nor any of his offspring, could repair the evil done 
by his transgression, we should, in consequence, 
have always remained in the state of Original sin 
and degradation in which we were born, and have 
been forever debarred from the Beatific Vision, 
had not the Omnipotent, in His infinite goodness 
and mercy, provided for us a Eedeemer. This 
was the hope that cheered our First Parents in 
their exile; and this was the promise that heaven 
held out to the nations through the vicissitudes 
of four thousand years. 

It was a beautiful idea of the poet, Milton, and 
one in perfect keeping with Catholic theology, to 
represent the Almighty announcing the Fall to 



178 



IN A NEW WAY. 



the astonished heavens and asking if any of the 
celestial powers was willing to devote himself for 
the salvation of mankind. The heavenly hierarchy 
was mute, and, among so many Seraphim, 
Thrones, Dominations, Angels and Archangels, 
none had the courage to make so great a sacrifice. 
What, indeed, could have inspired the angels with 
that unbounded love for man which the mystery 
of the cross supposes! How, in truth, could the 
most exalted of created spirits have possessed 
strength for the stupendous task! No angelic 
substance could, from the weakness of its nature, 
have taken upon itself such sufferings as were 
heaped upon the head of Christ. If the Son of 
Man Himself found the cup bitter, how could an 
angel have raised it to his lips? Oh, no; he never 
could have drunk it to the dregs, and the sacrifice 
could not have been consummated. 

As man's redemption could have proceeded 
only from a being superior to himself; and, as 
this stupendous task could not have been accom- 
plished by any of the intermediate beings between 
him and God, it follows that we could not have 
any other Eedeemer than one of the Three Per- 
sons existing from all eternity; and, among these 
Three Persons of the Godhead, it is obvious that, 
the Son alone, from His very nature, was to 
accomplish the great work of salvation. This 
Second Adam descended from the skies, and as- 



ORIGINAL SIN. 



179 



sumed human nature by His birtli of Mary. He 
received life in an abandoned stable, in the lowest 
of human conditions, because we had fallen 
through pride. He was born of a Virgin, Immacu- 
late in her Conception, that He might be free from 
original sin and a victim without spot and with- 
out blemish. He passed His life in poverty, suf- 
ferings and humiliations; till that, for us thrice- 
blessed day, when, bowing down His Sacred Head 
from the hard wood of the Cross, He cried aloud ; 
^ ' Consummatum est'^ — All is finished — and He 
breathed forth His pure soul into the arms of His 
eternal Father. Here the mystery ends: man 
feels an awful emotion, and the scene closes.* It 
is for us to ever humbly adore the Almighty in 
His wonderful works and to bless Him in His 
inscrutable and unsearchable ways. 
♦Viscount de Chateaubriand in Genius of Christianity. 



Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven 
them, and whose sins you shall retain, they are 
retained. — Saint John — 0. XX, 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



There is, probably, no subject of Catholic belief 
so vaguely understood, so grossly misrepresented 
or so frequently and so bitterly attacked by those 
outside the pale of the Catholic Church as the 
confessional. "With respect to those who are not 
of the household of the faith, the difficulty re- 
garding this, as well as every other point of 
Catholic doctrine, arises mainly from a misunder- 
standing or misconception of the matter. If 
instead of reading the works of our enemies who 
are ever ready to misrepresent us and the doc- 
trines of our Holy Church, our adversaries would 
consult some standard Catholic work, or even take 
in hand and carefully peruse a Catholic catechism, 
much that is dark and obscure would become 
bright and clear and we would be seen in our true 
colors. 

I propose, therefore, to give you a plain and 
straight-forward exposition of the ^^Confession- 
al'', the grounds on which it rests, the authority 
on which it is based, the needs of the human heart 
which it so well and so abundantly supplies, and 



184 



IN A NEW WAY. 



the immense benefits it confers, not only on in- 
di\T.diials in particular, but on society in general. 
If you follow me attentively, you will learn to love 
ever more and more a truth as old as that grand 
old Church to whose communion you belong. You 
will be better able to give an account of the faith 
that is in you; to vindicate it against the attacks 
of ignorance and prejudice; and, if needs be, to 
lay down your life's blood in its defence. Baptism, 
as all who have faith in Christ know and believe, 
is absolutely necessary for salvation. Unless a 
man be born again of water and of the Holy 
Ghost," says our Blessed Lord, ^4ie cannot enter 
into the Kingdom of heaven." This life-gi^dng 
sacrament cleanses the soul, not only from original 
sin, but also from all actual sin committed prior to 
its reception, and remits the punishment due to the 
same. It rescues us from the power of the demon ; 
from children of wrath, makes us Christians, chil- 
dren of God and heirs of heaven, and renders our 
souls pure and spotless in the sight of the Al- 
mighty. Well, indeed, would it be for us all did 
we never lose sight of those high prerogatives, 
but carry unsullied to the grave, those noble, royal 
titles ! 

Alas ! as very few of those once purified in the 
regenerating and life-giving waters preserve in- 
tact their baptismal innocence, if there were not 
some remedy, the condition of the human race 



THE CONFESSIOKAL. 



185 



would be as lamentable as it was before the 
coming of Christ. Our Blessed Saviour knew full 
well the frailty of our nature. He remembered 
that we are dust ; and in His infinite goodness and 
mercy, He left us another sacrament — a second 
plank after shipwreck — on which we may lay hold 
and reach the port of safety and salvation. The 
Holy Fathers, and with them the Council of Trent, 
employ the illustration of a shipwreck and say 
that penance is the only plank of safety left us 
when we have the misfortune of losing the inno- 
cence of our Baptism. For example, if you are 
at sea and the vessel in which you are sailing 
strikes against a rock and is dashed to pieces — 
what is your hope of escape? You seize a plank 
which you see floating on the waves, and you cling 
to it till help comes to you from some other source. 
Precisely so is it with the sinner when he has made 
shipwreck of his baptismal innocence. Hell opens 
to swallow him, but the mercy of God presents to 
him the Sacrament of reconciliation as the only 
means of delivering his soul from the dreadful 
fate otherwise awaiting him. Our divine Lord 
frequently spoke to His Apostles during His pub- 
lic life, and more particularly did He treat with 
them after His glorious resurrection from the 
dead, of the power which He was to bestow upon 
His Church and of which the Apostles and their 
successors, till the consummation of the world. 



186 



m A NEW WAY. 



were to be the ministers. It is evident from the six- 
teenth and eighteenth chapters of Saint Matthew, 
that our Blessed Lord fulfilled His promise of 
giving them the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, 
and that He imparted to them an unlimited power 
to hind and to loose, to forgive and to retain sins 
with a solemn declaration that whatsoever they 
would bind or loose on earth, should be bound or 
loosed in heaven, and that whatsoever sins they 
would forgive or retain on earth should likewise 
be forgiven or retained in heaven. We read in 
the twentieth chapter of the gospel of Saint John, 
that, on the very day of His resurrection He ap- 
peared to His Apostles and showed them His 
hands and His feet and His side in testimony that 
He was truly risen from the dead, and said to 
them: *^As the Father hath sent Me so I also send 
you ; and, when He had said this, He breathed on 
them and said to them ^Eeceive ye the Holy Ghost 
whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven 
them, and whose sins you shall retain they are 
retained.' " Can any words be simpler, plainer, 
more unmistakable or more expressive than these ? 
Turn them as you will, it is utterly, absolutely 
impossible to take any other meaning from them, 
or to interpret them in a sense to mean anything 
else than the divine and wonderful power of for- 
giving and retaining sins. 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



187 



Now, no one of sane mind would even for a 
single instant suppose that our Blessed Savior 
did not possess of Himself this wonderful and 
Godlike power of forgiving sins. That He pos- 
sessed this power and used it is evident from His 
own emphatic declaration on the occasion of the 
miracle recorded in the ninth chapter of the gos- 
pel of Saint Matthew. — ' ' And behold they brought 
to Him/^ says the Evangelist, ^'a man sick of the 
palsy lying in a bed. And Jesus seeing their 
faith; said to the man sick of the palsy: Be of 
good heart, Son, thy sins are forgiven thee. And 
behold some of the Scribes and Pharisees said 
within themselves: He blasphemeth. And Jesus 
seeing their thoughts said: Why do you think 
evil in your hearts 1 Whether it is easier to say ; 
Thy sins are forgiven thee, or to say, arise and 
walk! But, that you may know that the Son of 
Man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (then 
said He to the man sick of the palsy) : Arise, take 
up thy bed and go into Thy House. And he 
arose and went into his house. And the multitude 
seeing it, feared and glorified God Who had given 
such power to men.'^ If then, no sane 
person can deny that God Who is omnipotent can 
forgive sins, must we not also believe and confess 
that He can likewise delegate this power to others 
and confer it on whom He pleases. It is evident 
from His own divine words that He did so; and, 



188 



IN A NEW WAY. 



surely, no words can be plainer or more expressive. 

Those who cavil over the doctrine of the forgive- 
ness of sins say: 0, indeed, we know that Christ 
Himself could forgive sins and that He likewise 
could, and even did, confer this same power on 
His Apostles, but on no others. Was the Church 
of Christ then, I would ask them, to cease with the 
death of the Apostles, or was it to continue as He 
Himself declared till the consummation of the 
world? Were those saving institutions, those 
precious channels of God's grace and mercy to 
benefit only the chosen twelve and those who lived 
in Apostolic days? Was there to be no salvation 
for the countless generations that were to live 
after them? If so, what availeth the infallible 
words of Christ? ''All power is given to Me in 
heaven and on earth. Go ye, therefore, teach all 
nations : baptizing them in the name of the Father, 
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; teaching 
them to observe all things whatsoever I have com- 
manded you; and behold I am with you all days, 
even to the consummation of the world.'' Matt. 
XXVIII— 18-20. The Apostles, we know, were 
not to live always ; they in time were to pass away 
and others were to succeed to their office and min- 
istry. What, therefore, was said to them was 
evidently intended for their successors to future 
ages, who were to be endowed with the same un- 
failing power, handed down in regular succession 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



189 



in that only saving Churcli founded by our Blessed 
Lord Himself, and against which He solemnly de- 
clared ^Hhe gates of hell shall never prevail/^ 

If, then, the Apostles had the power to forgive 
sins, their legitimate successors must have it also, 
for the constitution of the Church has not changed. 
On our next Inauguration Day, the successful can- 
didate for the Presidency of the United States, the 
highest office within the power of the people, will 
have the same prerogatives that the President en- 
joys at present; and the President has the same 
now that his predecessors have had, back to the 
days of the framing of the Constitution of the 
United States. 

Sacramental confession in the tribunal of Pen- 
nance is a divine institution and a positive injunc- 
tion of Jesus Christ, Who conferred on His 
Apostles and their successors the wonderful power 
of binding and loosing from sin, and Who made it 
an indispensable obligation for the faithful to 
submit to this painful and humiliating duty. To 
pretend to confess to God alone as our adversaries 
do, and which they maintain is sufficient, is to 
destroy the commission of Christ, to contradict 
the gospel and to make void the power of the 
Keys. Wherefore, Saint Augustine, truthfully 
and beautifully remarks; ^'If thou wilt have 
heaven open to thee, open thy mouth in confession 
to the priest.'^ 



190 



m A NEW WAY. 



That the Confessional existed from the very 
time of Christ and the Apostles, is evident from 
the Fathers and Doctors of the Church in every 
age and clime. Of what advantage is it, says 
Saint Bernard, to declare a certain number of 
your sins and to conceal the remainder? All 
things are naked and open to the eyes of God, 
and how dare you conceal anything from him who 
holds the place of God in so great a sacrament? 
* ' Non salvemini, nisi confiteamini, ' ' " you will not 
be saved unless you confess,'' writes Hugh of 
Saint Victor. Saint Anselm who was Archbishop 
of Canterbury in England in the beginning of the 
twelfth century declares that ^^we should go to 
the priests and beg absolution.'' And that dis- 
tinguished Doctor of the Church, Saint Peter 
Damain, says that, ''To be ashamed of confessing 
our sins is to fear God less than man." The 
Venerable Bede who flourished in England in 
the beginning of the Eighth Century speaks thus : 
— ''We should distinguish between slight faults 
and sins of more weight : as to the former, we may 
usually confess them before our equals in order to 
obtain their prayers and receive correction; but 
as for the latter, in order to fulfill the law, we 
should necessarily confess them to the priest." 
Saint Paulinus who likewise lived in the same 
century says: — "Let each one prove himself be- 
fore receiving the body and blood of Jesus Christ. 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



191 



Before approaching, let us have recourse, as is 
our duty, to confession and penance; let us ex- 
amine with care all our works ; and, if we remark 
in ourselves whatever is capable of causing us to 
abstain from receiving, let us hasten to remove 
it by confession and true penance, for fear that, 
like Judas the traitor, harboring the devil within 
us, we may perish.'' A council held in Kent in 
England in the year seven hundred and eighty- 
seven forbade prayers to be said for those who 
through their own fault, died without confessing 
their sins. Saint Viron was confessor to Pepin, 
King of France; Saint Martin, to the great 
Charles Martel; Saint Udalric, Bishop of Augs- 
burg, to the Emperor Otho of Germany, and Saint 
Arteldulf, prior of Saint Oswald, to King Henry 
the First, in the olden time when England was a 
Catholic country. William of Somerset, a Monk 
of Malmesbury, praises the Norman soldiers for 
having spent the night before battle in confessing 
their sins. Alcuin, the preceptor of the Emperor, 
Charlemagne, wrote a work against the heretics 
of his time who denied the necessity of confession, 
while that same great Emperor, Charlemagne 
liimself, made it a rule that every regiment in 
his army should have its father confessor. It is 
related in the life of Saint Ambrose who was 
Archbishop of Milan in Italy in the Fourth cen- 
tury that, when ho heard the confessions of his 



192 



m A ^TEW WAY. 



penitents, he wept so much over the recital of their 
sins as to cause them to weep; and Saint Augus- 
tine who was such an ardent admirer of the fervid 
eloquence of the same Saint Ambrose, and to 
whom, in a great measure, he attributes his con- 
version to the faith, says in one of his homilies: 
* * Let no one say I do penance in private and before 
God. God Who pardons me knows the sorrow 
of my heart — Was it, therefore, said in vain; 

Whatsoever ye shall bind upon earth shall be 
bound also in heaven? Were the Keys given in 
vain to the Church of God ? Shall we render fruit- 
less the gospel of God and the words of Christ 1 ' ' 

^ ' God granted imto the priests of the New Law, ' ' 
writes Saint John Chrysostom in his learned work 
on the Priesthood, ^^what never was granted to 
angels or archangels, for never was it said to 
them, ^'Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall 
be bound also in heaven. — 

Tertullian, a priest of Carthage in Africa, who 
lived in the age following that of the Apostles, 
says in his admirable work on Penance : — ' ' I think 
many decline confessing their sins, or delay it 
from day to-day, moved more by fear of shame 
than care of their salvation; like unto those who 
afflicted with secret disorders, conceal their mal- 
ady from the physicians, and perish from false 
modesty and bashfulness. What advantage can 
be derived from the hiding of our crime; for, 



THE CONFESSIONAL.. 



193 



if we succeed in having it escape the knowledge 
of men, can we conceal it from GodV^ Origen, a 
prominent Apologist of the early Church and a 
prodigy of learning who died in the year two 
hundred and fifty-four declares; *^If we are sor- 
ry for our sins, and if we confess them not only 
to God, but also to those who have a remedy for 
them, then shall they be forgiven us.'' In the 
First Century of the Church, Saint Clement, the 
disciple and successor of Saint Peter, the first 
Pope and Bishop of Eome, says: Saint Peter 
taught that we must reveal even bad thoughts 
to the priests." 

Here, then, I have brought you down the cen- 
turies till we stand on the very threshold of the 
Apostles, and we are told that we must confess 
even sins of thought to a priest. By whom are 
we told this? By a disciple of Saint Peter. 
Wlierefore, if this doctrine be not true we must 
come to one of two conclusions. Either that 
Saint Peter was a poor instructor, or that Saint 
Clement paid no attention to the instructions giv- 
en. Now, is it reasonable to suppose that the 
Church at so early a period, when the words of 
the Apostles were still fresh in the minds of the 
people, could teach false doctrines! If so, vain 
must be the words of the Savior: *'And I say to 
thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will 
build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not 



194 



IN A NEW WAY. 



prevail against it. And I will give to thee the 
Keys of the Kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever 
thon shalt bind upon earth, it shall be bound also 
in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon 
earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven." — Saint 
Matthew XVI— 18-19. 

It is evident, therefore, from the concurring 
testimonies of the Fathers and Doctors of the 
Church that the words of our Blessed Eedeemer 
were accepted in their true, natural and obvious 
sense by His Apostles and their successors, and 
that sacramental confession has been practiced 
by the faithful in all ages of the world since the 
establishment of Christianity. 

But if, as the enemies of the Catholic Church 
maintain, confession is not a divine, but a human 
institution, when, where, and by whom I would 
ask them was it invented? It is ob^dous from 
the testimonies which I have quoted for you, and 
which are only a few of the many with which 
history abounds, that, in every age, from the day- 
dawn of Christianity, down to the present en- 
lightened period of the world ^s history, the same 
unchanging belief as to the divine origin of this 
sacrament was universally maintained among the 
faithful. Surely, if sacramental confession be 
the work of man the date and circumstances of 
its institution must be recorded^ somewhere on 
the annals of the past. Such an invention, did 



THE CONrESSIONAL. 



195 



it ever occur, would be too important not to leave 
some trace behind it of the time in which it was 
supposed to have taken place; but no such trace 
is anywhere to be found. What class of persons, 
moreover, could possibly have any interest in the 
establishment of such an institution as the con- 
fessional! If it had been invented by the priests, 
the bishops, or the popes, they, very likely, would 
have contrived in some way or other to exempt 
themselves from submitting to the trying and 
painful ordeal of confessing their own sins. But 
now all know that priests, and bishops, and arch- 
bishops, and cardinals and the popes themselves, 
must all submit to the same law of confessing 
their sins like the humblest and lowliest Catholic 
christian. The only difference is that, as their 
calling is far more exalted and holy than that 
of the ordinary Christian, they approach the 
sacred tribunal more frequently than the members 
of the laity in order that they may discharge with 
greater purity the sublime functions of their 
sacred office. We read of Saint Ignatius of 
Loyola, the distinguished founder of the Jesuits, 
of Saint Charles Borromeo, Archbishop of Milan, 
and of that model of meekness and amiability. 
Saint Francis de Sales, the gentle Bishop of 
Geneva, in Switzerland, and many others, that 
they confessed every morning, believing as they 



196 



IN A NEW WAY, 



did to find in this salutary practice a most power- 
ful aid in controlling themselves and advancing 
in virtue. 

Furthermore, how could any one attribute the 
invention of confession to ecclesiastical authorities 
when, besides being obliged to submit to the 
onerous duty of confessing their own sins, the 
hearing of the confessions of others, especially in 
large parishes, is one of the hardest and most 
difficult duties imposed upon the Priesthood 
of Jesus Christ. To sit for long hours 
in the confessional, listening to tales of misery 
and woe, surrounded by the foul air of its 
usually narrow limits, oftentimes inhaling tainted 
breaths and sickening odors is, I assure you, any- 
thing but a pleasant task. Yet, say the ignorant 
and malicious, they get paid for it. Never was 
there a blacker calumny charged against the 
Church of God by her enemies. Search history 
through and through and we defy them to pro- 
duce a single instance when at any period in the 
long annals of the Catholic Church it was ever 
lawful for her ministers to accept any money 
whatsoever for the hearing of confessions or the 
granting of absolution. I never heard of such a 
thing, nor did you either. Such a proceeding 
would be justly considered one of the most heinous 
crimes and sacrileges that could be committed and 
would be visited by the severest chastisements 



THE CONFERSIOJTATj, 



197 



which the Church could inflict. Again, suppose 
that at any given period in the history of the 
Church the ecclesiastical authorities took it upon 
themselves to establish the confessional, it is not 
at all likely the that great body of the faithful 
would have willingly submitted to so painful and 
so humiliating an ordinance. The Christians of 
the first centuries and of the middle ages had the 
very same passions to master; some would have 
wrangled with law and authority then as much 
as others do now; would have been just as rebel- 
lious under what they fancied an ecclesiastical 
innovation, as some twentieth century Christians 
are about paying their pew rent and supporting 
the Church and their pastor. Hence, they would 
never have submitted to the yoke of the confes- 
sional, were they not firmly convinced that it was 
established by Christ Himself. I know, and I am 
confidently assured, that not so much as the 
faintest shadow of a doubt has ever yet crossed 
your mind, or my mind either, concerning the 
divine origin of confession, and I cannot but feel 
convinced that all that I might say to you on such 
an almost exhaustless subject can do other than 
enhance your admiration and strengthen your love 
for this wonderful manifestation of God's good- 
ness and mercy. ^^That Church," declared Lac- 
tantius, *4s to be known as the true Church in 
which are to be found confession and penance." 



198 m A NEW WAY. 

In fact, a Church without the confessional is 
like an hospital without doctors. And why! The 
physicians are the preservers and executors of 
all that vast store of knowledge which has come 
down to us from the days of Hippocrates, the 
Father of medicine. The medical text hooks used 
in, and the lectures delivered at, our medical 
schools are the results of numberless observations 
and confidences reposed in countless doctors from 
the earliest times. That medical men may dis- 
honorably abuse this confidence to their own ad- 
vantage or the injury of their patient, is of course, 
possible with free agents; but this does not mil- 
itate against the justness and general necessity of 
the whole medical profession. As well would it 
be to do away with remedies altogether because 
some of them can be used to shorten and destroy 
life. The medical profession has its own preserva- 
tive etiquette, and provides against dishonorable 
conduct by rules, regulations, oaths and laws 
enacted in the various medical Societies, Colleges 
and Universities. 

Before the physician can effectually apply a 
remedy, the patient must state his case for his 
individual benefit. Such a case becomes a part 
of the sum of the doctor's experience from which 
other patients in turn derive profit. This experi- 
ence passes into the hands of the professions at 
large through discussions, lectures and text books 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



199 



where it is thoroughly sifted, and, if found 
worthy of permanent record, is preserved for the 
advantage of suffering humanity. Now the phil- 
osophy involved in medical cases, holds good, but 
in a more exalted degree, of the system of the 
confessional. What diagnosis is to the medical 
profession, casuistry, or the science of solving the 
right and wrong of given cases, is to the Catholic 
clergy. Works of moral theology are the text 
books of spiritual medicine which the confessor 
uses, together with his own experience when ad- 
ministering the sacrament of penance. 

What a profound knowledge of the human heart 
the Catholic priesthood must possess from this 
continuous out-pouring of its inmost depths ! For 
long centuries, the Catholic Church has been ac- 
cumulating in this way a knowledge of the ways 
of evil, a knowledge which, separated from in- 
dividual cases and circumstances, is ever being 
more perfectly systematized by her writers on 
moral theology. Doctor Talmage, the once well 
known Baptist preacher of Brooklyn, felt the 
need of knowing the sins of his people when he 
spent the nights of a week in visiting the haunts 
of crime in New York City and published the 
experiences of these nights in a series of lectures. 
The Catholic Church does not publish her ex- 
perience in the vulgar tongue lest harm might be 
done; yet the circle of her experience is ever 



200 IN A NEW WAY. 

widening, and in the confessional she is not only 
gaining a knowledge of all sin but of new sins. 
Very different, however, is the knowledge of sin 
possessed by the confessor from that of the 
lawyer, the physician or minister who goes slum- 
ming. The priest in the confessional sees the 
penitent bowed down with grief ; the lawyer, the 
jurist or the physician, sees brother contending 
against brother; man leagued against his fellow 
man ; the felonious, the envious and the depraved, 
wedded to their crimes, until, sickened by the con- 
tinuous sight of wretchedness and sin, they de- 
spair of human nature, lose faith in God, in re- 
ligion and in everything else. The confessor, on 
the contrary, sees the workings of grace, of con- 
science and of that unvariable belief in God, and 
the great hereafter ; he sees the struggle that man 
makes to be good even when he falls, and that how 
truly the good shepherd still goes in search of 
the wandering sheep. Thus, while the profes- 
sional man loses faith, the confessor is edified 
and strengthened and convinced ever more and 
more that God still guards and guides the world. 

Here I might be permitted to mention a per- 
sonal instance that brought these truths very 
strikingly to my mind. In the early afternoon of 
a dark day in the moody October in the first years 
of my ministry, as I lounged restlessly at my 
study table^, wandering mentally in the valley of 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



201 



indecision, and realizing from the gloominess 
without and the dullness within, the fitting import 
of Longfellow's truthful line: 

Into each life some rain must fall 
Some days must be dark and dreary, 

I was suddenly aroused from my revery by an 
unusually sharp ring of the door bell. I answered 
the call without delay; and, on opening the door, 
was confronted by a dark-visaged, hard-featured 
young man, who said that he wished to go to con- 
fession. Somewhat nonplused by this rather un- 
common request at so unusual an hour; and, 
recollecting a recent experience that might have 
resulted unpleasantly from acquiescence to a sim- 
ilar demand, I very gently informed my visitor 
that confessions were heard in the church every 
morning before mass and that I would there await 
his pleasure on the morrow. *^Well, then,'' said 
he, suppose it is all up with me again;" and, 
without further remark or ceremony, he went his 
way. He had been gone but a very few minutes, 
when I began to reflect how very imprudent, nay, 
dangerous it was, to refuse to hear a confession. 
With a qualm of conscience, I resolved to go 
forth in search of this wandering sheep. I went 
by rather a circuitous route in my quest of him, 
scrutinizingly eyed every place that might possibly 
hide him from my view, and hopefully enquired 
of several, under whose observation he might, 



202 



IN A NEW WAY. 



perchance, have come, if they had seen my man. 
But, nowhere was he to be found, nor had any one 
seen him. 

"Like ships that sailed for sunny isles 
But never came to shore." 

Vanished my hopes of recalling this lost oppor- 
tunity; or, of ever again, encountering the object 
of my search, when, lo! just as I was traversing 
the last block homeward, our paths suddenly 
crossed and face to face we met. ''I see you have 
not gone away, yet,'' I said; **so, if you will re- 
turn with me, I shall be pleased to hear your 
confession." Eight gladly, indeed, did he accept 
my invitation; and, with profound humility and 
heartfelt sorrow, did he rehearse to me the story 
of his life. His, to be sure, was a tale of woe ; and, 
many a sigh mingled with his tears as he paused 
in the history of his waywardness to dry his eyes 
with his faded bandana. I minded him to be 
of good cheer ; comforted him as best I could ; and 
held out to him the promise and rewards that 
await the penitent soul. As he passed out into 
the still impending gloom, he confidently assured 
me that, not since the days of his innocent child- 
hood, had he experienced such calm content ; that 
a burden indescribable had been lifted from his 
soul; and that he hoped, now, to go forth a new 
man and to walk ever after in the paths of right- 
ousness and peace. 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



203 



One thought, however, still lingered over all, to 
liaunt his future as it had shadowed his past, — 
the thought that he had, somewhere, in the wide 
world, a poor old mother whose wise counsels he 
had defied, but whose prayers, like some guardian 
spirit, had, he believed, been ever with him. Many 
are they that have knelt at my feet in the years 
of my Priesthood; but, among them all, stands 
out pre-eminent the memory of a dark-visaged 
stranger that on a dull October day stopped at 
my door to have a sorrow lifted from his life and 
to add a joy to my own. For, while we priests are 
bidden to forget the sins of those who come to us, 
the sinner himself we may think of in pity and in 
love. The Confessional is not the horrid thing 
that bigotry and prejudice would have it. It is 
not a mere sentiment, or an idle freak of fancy, 
but a great, a living reality. Believe me, no one 
goes to confession for mere pleasure, but because 
he is moved thereto by the gentle whispers of di- 
vine grace. The sinner better and more perfectly 
realizes the great evil of sin by the difficulty and 
repugnance he feels in confessing it. By such a 
course he is advised in what way he may best 
avoid relapse and, thereby, is he also made to 
repair the wrong he has done. 

If we view the confessional altogether apart 
from the light that faith throws around it, must 
it not bring us nearer to God, since it makes us 



204 



IN A NEW WAY. 



explicitly acknowledge our faults, heartily re- 
pent of them and firmly purpose their amendment. 
Indeed, all men, not excepting philosophers them- 
selves, whatever may have been their opinions on 
other subjects, have considered the confessional 
one of the strongest barriers against vice and as 
a master-piece of wisdom. 

A promient army officer was once asked to state 
from what nationality he would select his men 
for a critical encounter, had he the choice of na- 
tions. After a moment's hesitation he spoke of 
the training of one, the intrepid daring of a 
second; the cool determination of some, the 
matchless endurance of others, and so on; 
^^But, gentlemen," he continued, aside from the 
question of nationality, let me tell you that, for 
men who know no fear — who could be depended 
upon to a man, although it were a case of almost 
certain annihilation, — give me a regiment that had 
just knelt and told their sins to their chaplain, 
or who had received at his hands what they call a 
general pardon. I belong to no church, he said 
in conclusion; never expect to; but I say with- 
out hesitation that I would stake my life on the 
absolute fearlessness of these men, who believe so 
firmly that, whatever the result, they are pre- 
pared to meet their God.'' 

The confessional is without doubt the great 
guardian of the morals of the youth of both sexes. 



THE CONFESSIOISTAL. 



205 



Througil it, rising passions are checked or kept 
under control and vice is nipped in the bud. In- 
nocence is preserved from many fatal snares ; or, 
if it has been unfortunately lost, the penitent is 
saved from despair and headlong ruin and is once 
more restored to the grace and friendship of the 
Almighty. The young man is warned on the very 
threshold of life; the young woman is rescued 
from the proximate occasion of sin; and the dan- 
gers of a wicked course are pointed out to all. It 
is very evident that preaching from the altar or 
pulpit has not the same powerful effect as the 
word fitly spoken and whispered into the ear of 
the individual penitent by the minister of God in 
the sacred tribunal of penance. The Confessional 
is the place for special warnings and instructions 
adapted to the widely different wants, dangers and 
necessities of the penitents. There it is that the 
means are pointed out and the remedies prescribed 
for the prevention or cure of the diseases of the 
soul. Hence, the penitent Emperor Theodosius 
said wisely to Saint Ambrose: 'Tis thine to pre- 
scribe and compound the medicines; 'tis mine to 
receive them.'' "This whole institution," says 
the eminent Protestant writer Leibnitz, '4s 
worthy of divine wisdom, and if in the Christian 
religion there be any ordinance singularly excel- 
lent and worthy of admiration, it is this, which 
even the Chinese and Japanese admired 5 for the 



206 



IN A NEW WAY. 



necessity of confessing at once deters many, es- 
pecially those who are not yet obdurate, from 
sinning and administers great comfort to the fal- 
len; insomuch that I believe a pious, grave and 
prudent confessor to be a powerful instrument 
in the hands of God for the salvation of souls. ' ' 

^'How many restitutions and reparations,'^ to 
quote the infidel Eousseau, ^'does not confession 
produce among Catholics. ' ' And even the impious 
Voltaire, whose wicked tenets still find followers, 
declares that ^'confession is a most excellent ex- 
pedient, a bridle to guilt, invented in the remotest 
antiquity and practiced at the celebration of all 
the ancient mysteries." 

Steeped in iniquity and crime as the world is to- 
day, ever, apparently, growing worse rather than 
better, what, in fact, would it be deprived of the 
confessional's potent influence! What would be- 
come of the more than two hundred millions of 
Catholics throughout the world who acknowledge 
it as a divine invention and bow down in sweet 
humility before the dispenser of so great a 
mystery! Without this saving institution the 
sinner would sink into despair. To what bosom 
could he unburden his heart? To a friend! 

"Alas! friendship is but a name, 

A charm that lulls to sleep; 
A shade that follows wealth or fame. 

But leaves the wretch to weep." 



THE CONFESSIONAL. 



207 



My remarks would still remain incomplete were 
I to conclude without touching on the secrecy of 
the confessional which, as you know full well, 
must before all other considerations, stand para- 
mount and supreme. So indispensable, in fact, 
is this law of secrecy, so far reaching is it in ex- 
tent, and so strictly bound is the priest to be upon 
his guard in this particular that he can in all truth 
say with an ancient writer; ^'What I know by 
confession I know less than what I do not know at 
all.'' 

Professional men, lawyers, physicians, all, as a 
rule, keep professional secrets; occasionally, how- 
ever, we hear in the courts or through the news- 
papers of the betrayal of their secret trust. But 
surprising as it may seem, there is not a single 
case on record since the day dawn of Christianity 
of a Catholic priest revealing the secrets of the 
confessional. Indeed, it would be difficult for a 
priest to divulge individual faults committed to 
his hearing, even if he would, for memory entirely 
fails him. In most cases circumstances, doubtless, 
contribute to this condition. The confessional is 
usually a plain wooden structure, divided into 
three compartments, the middle being occupied 
by the Father confessor, and the other two by his 
penitents. The only means of communication is 
through a close wire or wooden grating; and, as 
there is no obligation that the penitent need in 



208 



IN A NEW WAY. 



any way reveal his identity to the confessor, and 
as it is ordinarily dark in this tribunal he has 
no other way to recognize individuals than by 
their voices. As the circle which arises on the 
water by the action of the pebble cast upon its 
surface, gradually expands till finally it dis- 
appears and is lost on the bosom of the deep, so 
the short-comings and sins breathed into the ear 
of the priest in the sacred tribunal ruffle his mind 
as they cross it, pass out of his memory and are 
buried in the grave of oblivion forever. — Grant- 
ing, as we necessarily must, human liberty in all 
Catholic clergymen; nay, even admitting an occa- 
sional fall like that of the unfortunate Martin 
Luther, Pere Hyacinth of unsavory fame, and 
others, are we not withal perforce obliged to con- 
fess that there is a special and miraculous Provi- 
dence over the secrets of the confessional that has 
kept us safe for nineteen centuries. 

Not so very many years ago a French priest 
of the diocese of Aix in France, returned home 
from New Caledonia, where he had been a convict 
for naore than two years on a false charge of 
robbery and murder. Shortly after the priest's 
release the real murderer appeared and declared 
to the authorities that he committed the murder 
and so concealed the body that suspicion was 
thrown on the priest. More than this, the mur- 
'derer avowed that he confessed the crime to the, 



THE CONFESSIOHAL, 



209 



priest who could, by being false to his duty as 
a confessor, have saved himself the peril of a 
disgraceful death or a life long imprisonment. 

When Archbishop McEvilly of Tuam was a 
young priest in Ireland a gold watch was given 
to him in the confessional to be returned to a 
certain Protestant gentleman from whom it had 
been stolen. On his returning the watch the 
owner insisted on his knowing the name of the 
person who stole it; and, on his refusal to reveal 
it, the priest was sentenced to a term of imprison- 
ment for two years. He was tinally released; 
and, ever since, the judges in the Irish courts have 
respected and tacitly permitted, the secrecy of 
the confessional. 

I shall close by narrating one more instance, a 
well known historical fact, recorded in the life 
of Saint John Nepomucen, and which again 
beautifully but sadly illustrates the secrecy of 
the confessional. Saint John Nepomucen was 
born of poor but pious parents in the little town 
of Nepomuc in Bohemia about the year thirteen 
hundred and thirty. Both in childhood and in 
youth he gave promise of his future greatness by 
his advancement in piety and learning, and, in 
due time, he was elevated to the sublime dignity 
of the Priesthood. His holy life as a priest led 
to his appointment as chaplain to the Court of 
the Emperor Wenceslaus where be converted 



210 



IN A NEW WAY. 



numbers by his preaching and example. Amongst 
those who sought his advice was the Empress, a 
most virtuous and accomplished lady, who suf- 
fered much on account of her husband's unfounded 
jealousy. Her profound piety only incensed the 
Emperor still more and he tried by every means 
in his power to extort from Saint John what she 
had disclosed to him in her confessions. As all 
his efforts were ineffectual the tyrant Emperor 
at length commanded him to be thrown into a 
dungeon where he lay several days rejoicing in 
his chains. After a time, he was released and 
invited to the royal palace, treated with the great- 
est courtesy and with every exterior mark of 
kindness and esteem, and even promised honors 
and riches if he would only lay open the confes- 
sions of the Empress. But as Saint John could 
neither be induced by blandishments nor threats 
to yield, the tyrant Emperor commanded him to 
be again cast into prison ; placed on a rack, burn- 
ing torches applied to his sides and to the most 
sensitive parts of his body; but no words save 
Jesus and Mary passed his lips. Finally, on the 
eve of the glorious festival of our Blessed Lord's 
Ascension into Heaven, after a last and fruitless 
attempt to move his constancy, the wicked Em- 
peror ordered the servant of God to be bound hand 
and foot and cast into the river. As his body sank 
beneath the surface of the waves, a heavenly light, 



THE CONrESSTONAL. 



211 



shining on the waters, discovered the body which 
was buried with all the honors due to a saint. 
Three hundred and thirty years after the death 
of Saint John, when the shrine wherein reposed 
his sacred remains was opened, his tongue alone 
was found fresh and free from corruption, as if 
the Saint had but just expired. Thus did the 
Almighty reward, even in death Saint John 
Nepomucen, who perished a martyr to the secret 
of the Confessional. 



In this present time, let your abundance supply 
their want, that their abundance may also supply 
your want, that there may be an equality. — 

II Cor. VIII-14. 



INDULGENCES. 



The subject of this Sermon-Essay is one, con- 
cerning which, those who are not of the household 
of the faith, entertain very vague, and, often- 
times, outlandish notions ; and about which, I ven- 
ture to say, even many devout, and otherwise well 
instructed Catholics, manifest little appreciation; 
for the reason, most likely, that their knowledge of 
the teachings of the Church, regarding the nature 
and use of Indulgences, is so very imperfect. It 
shall be my aim, then, to elucidate for you, this 
frequently misunderstood and, often, misrepre- 
sented doctrine of our Holy Church; I shall en- 
deavor to sustain your interest in the subject, by 
allusion to the well-known facts of History which 
have a bearing on this subject, especially the build- 
ing of Saint Peter's Church at Eome, the largest 
and most costly church in the world ; and the rise 
of the so-called Reformation. 

And first, let us begin with the word itself. Our 
English word ^'Indulgence'' comes from the Latin 
word *'indulgere" and signifies, generally, to be 
indulgent to, to treat with kindness, to be lenient 



216 



m A NEW 'WAY. 



and gentle with, and so on. Thus, the executive 
that liberates the criminal, or commutes the sen- 
tence of the condemned ; the landlord who, instead 
of exacting the very last penny from his tenant, 
or demands payment the very day or hour the 
rent falls due, grants to the tenant some days of 
needed grace, or, in seasons of scarcity and 
failure, remits a good part of the debt; all ex- 
ercise acts of indulgence. So, too, we speak of an 
over-indulgent father; a too indulgent mother, 
and the rest. Now, in a theological sense, also, the 
term Indulgence signifies an act of clemency and 
mercy, a remission and condonation granted by 
the Church. And hence to obtain a clear idea 
and correct knowledge of the precise nature of 
this act of clemency and mercy, remission and 
condonation, we must always keep well in mind 
certain defined truths which are articles of faith 
in the Catholic Church. 

When the famous Eoman orator, Cicero, wished 
to engage the special attention of his hearers, he 
was accustomed to say to them: '4end me your 
ears.'' We find this expression recurring con- 
stantly in his orations. Cicero did not mean, of 
course, that they were to cut off their ears and 
hand them to him; he wished, merely, to arouse 
the lagging attention of some among his hearers, 
and to request from all the closest application of 
their minds to something particularly important 



INDULGENCES. 



217 



that he was about to say to them. At the outset, 
then, I shall borrow Cicero's expression, and I 
say to you that, if you wish to understand, clearly 
and thoroughly, the doctrine of the Catholic 
Church on this frequently misunderstood subject 
of Indulgences, you will have to lend me your ears, 
or, to be plain about it, you will have to give me 
your very closest attention. 

In all sin, whether mortal or venial, we must 
distinguish two things, the guilt and the punish- 
ment. The guilt, or the offence, is the injury done 
to God by sin; the penalty, or punishment, is the 
chastisement which the Almighty has a right to 
inflict on the sinner, even after the sin has been 
pardoned. When the sin is mortal, the offense, 
we know, is grievous ; and, consequently, the bond 
that unites us to our Maker is severed, sanctifying 
grace, which is the life and beauty of the soul, is 
lost, and the penalty incurred is everlasting pun- 
ishment to be undergone in hell. But, if the sin 
be only venial, the friendship of God is not de- 
stroyed, nor does the soul merit eternal torments. 

Now, the only way to recover God's friendship, 
after having fallen into mortal sin, is through the 
sacrament of Penance worthily received, or, 
through perfect contrition, with a desire of the 
sacrament when it is impossible to receive the 
sacrament. In each case, the sin and the eternal 



218 



IN A NEW WAY. 



pumsliment due to it are remitted. This is the 
first truth, then, that we must bear well in mind. 

Some times God's grace acts so powerfully on 
the soul, that, in recei^dng sacramental absolution, 
or eliciting an act of perfect contrition, the sinner 
may have such a full and intense sorrow for his 
sin that the Almighty remits all the punishment 
due to it, as is the case in Baptism and Martyrdom. 
But, as sorrow and love are rarely so perfect as to 
entirely justify the sinner, the Almighty requires 
a temporal punishment to satisfy His di^dne Jus- 
tice after the guilt and the eternal punishment 
have been remitted. Many instances, recorded in 
Holy Writ, clearly demonstrate this truth. We 
read in the twelfth chapter of the Book of Numbers 
that Mar}^, the sister of Moses, was subjected to 
a seven days penance, though her sin had been for- 
given. In like manner, the Israelites were par- 
doned their sins through the intercession of 
Moses; and yet, in punishment of their idolatry 
and murmurs, they were condemned to wander 
forty years in the desert and were debarred from 
entering the Land of Promise. (Numbers C. XIV.) 
King David was assured by the prophet Nathan, 
that the Lord had taken away his sin ; yet he was 
punished with the death of his child, the dishonor 
of his house, dissensions in his family and several 
other judgments that were inflicted on him. A sin 
of pride which he afterwards committed was 



INDULGENCES. 



219 



pardoned ; yet was punished with a plague of three 
days which carried off seventy thousand of his 
subjects.— II Kings— C. XXIV. 

Here we plainly see the pardon of sin, separated 
from the pardon of the punishment, and the justice 
of God reserving the right to inflict a temporal 
chastisement on those who have transgressed His 
sacred laws. ^'Thou dost not leave unpunished" 
exclaims the penitent Saint Augustine, ^'the sins 
of even those to whom Thou gran test pardon." 
Hence the teaching of the Church: *^If any one 
saith that, after the grace of justification has been 
received, to every penitent sinner sin is so remitted 
and the guilt of eternal punishment is blotted out 
in such a wise, that there remains not any of tem- 
poral punishment to be discharged, either in this 
world, or in the next, in Purgatory, before the en- 
trance to the kingdom of heaven can be opened 
(to him), let him be anathema." 

This temporal punishment due to sin must be 
undergone in this life by works of penance, or in 
the future life by the pains of Purgatory. If you 
keep these truths well in mind, you will have no 
difficulty in arriving at a correct idea of Indul- 
gences ; and, to enable you the better to do so, let 
each one apply them in his own particular case. 
Suppose you have committed sin: if mortal, the 
injury done to God is gi^ievous ; and, consequently, 
you have lost sanctifying grace and merited eter- 



220 



IN A NEW WAY. 



nal punishment. If venial, the friendship of God 
is not lost, but only weakened, and you have in- 
curred but a temporal punishment. In the sup- 
position that the sin you have committed is mortal, 
the sacrament of Penance worthily received, or 
an act of perfect contrition when it is impossible 
to receive the sacrament, reconciles you with God, 
and remits the eternal punishment that such sin 
has merited. But even after your sin has been 
forgiven and the eternal punishment due to it, 
forever wiped away in the sacred tribunal of 
Penance the Almighty exacts of you a temporal 
fine and this fine you must pay either in this life 
by means of works of penance, or hereafter by the 
pains of Purgatory. Now, this debt of temporal 
punishment that remains to be paid, after the guilt 
and the eternal punishment due to our sins have 
been forgiven, the Almighty graciously remits by 
means of Indulgences. 

We now come to the definition of an Indugence : 
An Indulgence is the remission of the temporal 
punishment for which the sinner remains indebted 
to the Divine Justice on acount of sins already 
pardoned as to their guilt and eternal punishment. 
When the whole of the temporal punishment due 
to sin is remitted, the indulgence is called Plenary; 
when only a part is remitted, it is called Partial. 
This remission is effected "by means of the appli- 
cation of the merits of Jesus Christ and the more 



mDULGEKCES. 



221 



than abundant satisfactions of the Most Blessed 
Virgin and the Saints, which merits and satisfac- 
tions constitute what is called the Spiritual 
Treasury of the Church. And here to clarify our 
ideas on this point, it might be well to say a word 
on the Communion of Saints. You know that all 
the members of the one true Church constitute 
three great branches : the Church Militant, or those 
who are still on earth battling and struggling to 
save their souls ; the Church Suffering, or those in 
Purgatory, who are being purged from their sins 
and purified for heaven; and the Church Trium- 
phant, or those who "have fought the good fight" 
and are now enjoying the reward of their labors 
and conquests. The Communion of Saints means, 
then, that these three branches of the Church aid 
one another. Thus, we on earth help the Souls 
in Purgatory by our prayers and good works, and 
they; in turn, pray for us; while the saints in 
Heaven pray for both us and the Souls in Purga- 
tory. How beautiful is not this Communion of 
Saints — this common union — this Godlike unity 
exhibited and reproduced in the Catholic Church 
and which is to be found in her and by her alone. 
AVell, indeed, did the immortal Bossuet, the silver- 
tongued orator of France, exclaim in his discourse 
on the Unity of the Church: "0 Holy Church of 
Eome, Mistress of churches and Mother of all the 
Faithful! 0 Church, selected by God for the 



222 



m A NEW WAY. 



union of His children in the same faith and char- 
ity! To thy unity shall we always cling with all 
the earnestness of our heart. If I forget thee, 0 
Church of Eome, may I forget myself; may my 
tongue become parched and remain immovable in 
my mouth, if thou be not ever foremost in my 
memory, if I give thee not first place in all my 
canticles of joy.^' 

But the Communion of Saints has a wider 
meaning than this, as an illustration will very 
plainly show you. Suppose the case of a family 
living together and consisting of a mother and 
three sons. The eldest son earns a very large 
salary, the second sufficient to support himself, 
while the youngest son, earns but very little. Like 
good and dutiful sons they give their earnings to 
their mother, who, from the combined amounts 
provides for the wants of all ; and draws from the 
large salary of the eldest, to supply the needs of 
the youngest. Thus, he who has not enough for 
his support is, through his mother, aided by the 
one who has more than he needs. Now, the Church 
is our mother; and, some of her children, like the 
Most Blessed Virgin and the great Saints accumu- 
lated many good works and did far more than was 
necessary to gain heaven ; while others did not do 
enough. Then our Mother, the Church, draws 
from the abundant satisfaction of her rich children 
to help those who are poorer in merits and good 



INDULGENCES. 



223 



works. The greatest and largest treasure the 
Church has to draw from in this collection, 
is the more than ahundant merits of our 
Blessed Lord from Whom one single sigh, one 
solitary tear, one drop of Whose all-precious 
blood, would have been more than sufficient to 
redeem countless worlds; the superabundant sat- 
isfaction of His Blessed Mother who, though sin- 
less; performed countless penances and good 
works* and the penances and good works of the 
saints.* 

You understand, then, what is meant by the 
Communion of Saints and what constitutes the 
Spiritual Treasury of the Church. This grand 
and opulent Treasury those empowered unlock, 
and from it they dispense favors by way of Indu- 
gences, to us, their needy children. Bear well in 
mind that, an indulgence remits neither mortal 
nor venial sin ; that it does not wipe out the eternal 
chastisement ; nor bring about, nor affect justifica- 
tion, but rather presupposes and follows it. It is 
absolutely necessary that we should have a clear 
knowledge of these truths; for, we find nothing 
so continually and so persistently maintained 
among Non-Catholics, and even stated in their 
books, than that an Indulgence is a permission to 
commit sin. You know, of course, that nothing is 
more radically wrong and absurd. You know, 

♦Explanation of the Baltimore Catechism. Kinkead. 



224 IN A NEW WAY. 

moreover, that, in the early days of the Church, 
the penances were much more severe, both in in- 
tensity and duration, than they are at present. 
For example: under the old Canonical penances 
one who had cursed his parents, was obliged to 
fast for forty days on bread and water; an 
usurer, three years on the same diet; while an 
adulterer had to perform public penance from five 
to twelve years, acording to circumstances, and 
so on. Of course these penances were different 
in different parts of the Church and at different 
periods; and, as time went on and faith grew 
weaker, and piety relaxed among the faithful, it 
was found impossible to get these severe penances 
performed; and so it became evident that, if it 
were still insisted on, the effect would be to pre- 
vent repentance, rather than to insure its being 
thorough and sincere ; and, therefore, the Church, 
wishing to save her children, made it easier for 
them to do penance; and this substitution of the 
easier for the more difficult, was known as an In- 
dulgence. 

Now, you sometimes notice printed after a little 
prayer or some devotion, "an indulgence of forty 
days; of one hundred days; of three years ^' and 
the like for saying the prayer or performing that 
a devotion. What does this mean? Does it mean 
that a person who says that prayer or performs 
this devotion will be released from Purgatory 



INDULGENCES. 



225 



forty days, or one hundred days, or three years 
sooner than if he did not say that prayer or per- 
form that devotion! Not at all. We have said 
that the early Christians were obliged to perform 
very severe public penances; that sometimes this 
public penance lasted for forty days ; one hundred 
days; three years; and even for a much longer 
period. By an indulgence, then, of forty days; 
one hundred days; three years, etc., the Church 
grants the remission of as much of the temporal 
punishment as the early Christians would have 
received for doing forty days, one hundred days, 
three years, etc., of public penance. Just how 
much of the temporal punishment Almighty God 
blotted out for forty days, etc., of public penance, 
we do not know. But, whatever it was, God blots 
out just the same now for one who gains an in- 
dulgence of forty days, one hundred days, etc., by 
saying a little prayer, or performing the devotion 
to which the indulgence is attached. '^As the old 
Canonical penances were regarded as more sal- 
utary than anything one could do of one's own 
accord, so the prayers and good works which the 
church has substituted for them have a like value. 
In theory, a prayer or good work to which an in- 
dulgence of forty, or one hundred days, is attached 
is the equivalent of the old penances performed 
for that time; but, as the actual benefit derived 
from this indulgenced prayer, or good work, de- 



226 



m A NEW WAY. 



pends mainly on the fervor with which it is said 
or done, it is plain that the actual benefit of an 
indulgence is likely to be less than that of the old 
penance; for the performance of the Canonical 
penance required of itself a great amount of fer- 
vor; while to perform the work to which the in- 
dulgence is attached requires but very little. All 
good Catholics recognize this; and, as a conse- 
quence, most of them, instead of being contented 
with one plenary indulgence, or a few partial ones, 
endeavor to gain as many as they possibly can." — 
Plain Facts For Fair Minds. 

^'For those who seek God's love and the glory 
of heaven,'' says Saint Ignatius of Loyola, ^indul- 
gences are a rich treasure, and may be compared 
to so many precious gems." And Saint Al- 
phonsus assures us that, to become saints we have 
only to gain as many indulgences as possible. The 
fruits to be derived from the use of Indulgences 
so abundantly placed by the Church at the disposal 
of the Faitliful, are, by too many, not sufficiently 
estimated. When too late, thousands will have to 
deplore the fatuity with which they neglected to 
avail themselves during life of this salutary means 
of expiation. Shall we be among the number?** 

I have said that this subject of Indulgences 
might be made more interesting by allusion to two 

**Much of the first of this Essay is adapted from Father 
Maurel's well-known work on Indulgences and from Father 
Thomas Kinkead's Explanation of the Baltimore Catechism. 



INDULGENCES. 



227 



great facts of History— the building of Saint 
Peter's Church in Rome, and the rise of the so- 
called Eeformation. Saint Peter's Church in 
Rome, the grandest ecclesiastical edifice in the 
world, is one of the seven wonders of modern 
times. Pope Julius II, who ascended the Papal 
throne, October the thirty-first, 1503, resolved to 
rebuild the decaying Basilica of Saint Peter, and 
conceived the noble purpose of erecting to the 
honor of the Most High, a temple that would call 
forth the admiration of future ages. He in- 
strusted this gigantic design to Bramanthe, one of 
the most celebrated architects of Italy; and, on 
the eighteenth of April, 1506, Pope Julius laid the 
corner stone of this magnificent structure, in the 
presence of an immense concourse of people. But, 
neither Pope Julius himself who conceived this 
mighty project, nor the master architect who so 
ably seconded him, was destined to survive long to 
carry on this noble work. Pope Julius II died 
on the twenty-first of February, 1513, leaving to 
his successor. Pope Leo X, a pontiff who adorned 
one of the most illustrious periods of history, and 
the celebrated Michael Angelo to continue and 
bring to more exquisite perfection this noble work. 

By expanding the powers of a vivid imagination, 
that wonderful organ by which the mind perceives 
and converses with the spiritualities of nature 
under her material forms, and drawing from the 



228 



IN A NEW WAY. 



descriptions others have given us of it, we shall 
be able, perhaps, to form some conception of its 
grandeur ; and, in this way, rise to a higher appre- 
ciation of this relic of genius, power and beauty. 

As we stand in spirit before this mighty monu- 
ment of faith and piety, and survey, with first 
and casual glance, its vast proportions., we feel 
in perfect accord with the sentiment so truthfully 
expressed by the poet, Byron. 

"Thou of temples old or altars new, 
Standest alone, with nothing like to thee!" 

The approach to Saint Peter's is a magnificent 
area, resembling the entrance to one of our large 
city parks, only ten times as spacious. In the 
center of this grand approach is an Egyptian 
obelisk, one hundred and thirty feet high, brought 
from the city of Heliopolis in the first years of the 
first century, and placed in its present position in 
the sixteenth century. On either side of this obe- 
lisk are lovely fountains, throwing their jets of 
spray ninety feet into the air. Around us are 
those grand colonnades, or covered passage ways, 
which lead to Saint Peter 's proper, with two hun- 
dred columns, in rows of four, between each two 
of which, two carriages can be driven abreast, and 
whose roofs are surmounted by one hundred and 
sixty-two statues of saints, each twelve feet high. 
Ascending the mighty palisade of steps, and cross- 
ing the portals, we find ourselves in an edifice two 



INDULGENCES. 



229 



hundred feet long; and yet, we are only in the 
vestibule of Saint Peters. As we pass the brazen 
doors, and look around for the first time upon its 
marvellous interior, we are filled with amazement 
and awe. We strain our vision to the farthest 
point from where we stand — six hundred and ten 
feet — three American city blocks and lo ! men who 
are giants, compared with any of us, appear in 
that long distance that separates us, only like 
babies. It is not the distance alone that makes 
them appear so small; but the colossal statuary, 
the mighty figures, and the vastness that surrounds 
them that reduces them to mere specks in the 
distance. As we advance to the center of this 
queen of temples, we find ourselves surrounded 
by a flood of blinding light, it is the glow of glory, 
descending from the dome — the vast and wondrous 
dome — *^to which Diana's marvel was a celP' — > 
spread like a firmament, four hundred feet over 
our head, bright with the sparkling mosaics of 
Michael Angelo representing the choirs of angels 
around God's great throne in heaven. Under this 
immense dome and over the tomb of Saint Peter 
to whom Christ said : * ' Thou art Peter and upon 
this rock I will build my Church'' rests the great 
high altar. We ascend this mighty dome and go 
out upon its spacious roof — the roof where work- 
men and their families live, and where a fountain 
of sparkling water is sending its pure sprays 



230 



IN A NEW WAY. 



heavenward. We go around the inside of flie 
cnpola and, standing on the iron terrace, we look 
down on the pavement below! Men of gigantic 
stature appear as mere creeping things, and ob- 
jects of great size seem only like children's toys. 
We advance yet higher, and we go around, and 
into the ball on the top of the dome. This ball, 
which, from the ground, appears no larger than a 
fair-sized orange, will hold thirteen persons. From 
this dizzy height we look out upon Rome and what 
a flood of thoughts come rushing upon us. We 
recall the Rome of twenty-five hundred years ago 
and the Rome of to-day; the marble city of the 
Caesars and the seven-hilled city of the Popes. 
As we descend and leave Saint Peter's, we lisp 
again and again the truthful words of the poet, 
Byron. 

But thou of temples old, or altars new, 
Standest alone, with nothing like to thee. 

Majesty, Power, Glory, Strength and Beauty are all aisled 
In this eternal ark of worship undefiled. 

Saint Peter' Church in Rome has a capacity of 
fifty-two thousand, and is unique among all the 
' ecclesiastical structures of this earth. Not all 
the genius of the world to-day, not all the wealth 
of nations, could erect another Saint Peter's. 

It is said of the great Irish Liberator, Daniel 
O'Connell, that, in his last will, he consigned his 
body to Ireland, his soul to God and his heart to 



INDULGENCES. 



231 



Eome. He had visited the Eternal City; he had 
viewed with ecstatic wonder its marvellous cathe- 
dral ; and he had prayed at the tombs of the holy 
Apostles, Saints Peter and Paul, that repose 
therein. Nothing therefore, could more signifi- 
cantly express the undying attachment and the 
unswerving fidelity of this good man for the faith 
of his fathers, than this characteristic expression, 
this cherished clause of his last will and testament, 
^^my heart to Eome.'' 

To very few of us will it be given to view this 
stupendous structure. But all of us can, often- 
times, in spirit, tread its spacious aisles, study its 
vast proportions; and, always, humbly pray that 
our hearts may ever remain inseparably united 
with Christ's Vicar on earth — the successor of 
Saint Peter — the first pope and bishop of the 
Holy See of Eome. 

Having given you, then, a very meagre and im- 
perfect picture of the vastness, grandeur and 
beauty of this wonderful basilica, it remains for 
me to show you, in conclusion, what Saint Peter's 
Church in Eome and the so-called Eeformation, 
have to do with indulgence. 

We have noticed that Pope Julius II laid the 
corner-stone of this magnificent structure on the 
eighteenth of April, fifteen hundred and six, in 
the presence of an immense concourse of people. 
Martin Luther, the father of the so-called Eef orm- 



232 



IN A NEW WAY. 



ation, was born in Saxony in the year fourteen 
hundred and eighty-three, nine years before the 
Discovery of America ; and, in fifteen hundred and 
seven, the year following the laying of the corner- 
stone of Saint Peter's he pronounced his sacred 
vows, and was ordained a priest of the order of 
Saint Augustine. 

It is said that one of Luther's most intimate 
friends, the companion of his youthful toils and 
pleasures, was struck dead at his side by lightning, 
as they were walking along together. This terrible 
warning from heaven, so entirely changed the 
current of his thoughts at that period of his life 
that; on the following evening, he abandoned the 
world and entered the order in which he after- 
wards pronounced his vows and was ordained a 
priest. On that memorable occasion he penned the 
following lines to a friend: To-day, I say my 
first mass. Come and hear it. Unworthy sinner 
as I am, God has been pleased to choose me in the 
abundance of His mercy. I shall strive to make 
myself worthy of His goodness; and, in so far 
as it is possible for such a vile mass of dust, to 
fulfill His designs. Pray that my holocaust may 
be pleasing in His sight.'' He was subsequently 
sent by his superiors to Eome ; and, on seeing the 
city for the first time, he exclaimed : ^ ^ Hail Eome ! 
Holy City, thrice sanctified by the blood of the 
martyrs!" Later he was called to the chair of 



INDULGENCES. 



233 



philosopliy In the University of Wittenberg by its 
founder, Frederic the Wise, Elector of Saxony. 
Luther undoubtedly possessed great natural 
powers; but they were perverted by a proud and 
restless disposition and a stubborn will. What 
a cursed thing it is to be of a stubborn, self-willed 
disposition. A stubborn mind conduces as little 
to wisdom, or even to knowledge, as a stubborn 
temper, to happiness. In the solitude of the 
cloister he had nourished heretical doctrines on 
the subject of Faith which he also secretly taught 
from his professional chair; and, in such terms, 
as to entirely depreciate Good Works. While 
Saint Peter's Church was building. Pope Leo X, 
following the example of several of his predeces- 
sors, granted certain indulgence to all the faithful 
who should contribute by their alms towards the 
completion of the Basilica of Saint Peter. The 
Archbishop of Mentz, who was intrusted with the 
promulgation of the Pontifical decree in Germany, 
charged John Tetzel, a member of the Order of 
Saint Dominic, to publish the Indulgences in 
Saxony. The Augustinians, thinking themselves 
entitled to that privilege, were hurt by what they 
deemed a show of partiality towards Tetzel. 
Luther espoused and warmly advocated the claim, 
and thus a spirit of rivalry and jealously gave rise 
to the most fearful storms. The pretext that 
Luther seized upon for the first public manifesta- 



234 



IN A NEW WAY. 



tion of his errors, was the promulgation of the 
Indulgence granted by Pope Leo X. He then 
openly assailed, not only the doctrine of In- 
dulgences, but the very first principles of the 
Catholic religion on which that doctrine is 
founded. He went rapidly forward in the career 
of innovation and impugned the teaching of the 
Church on Original sin and Predestination, on 
Justification and the Sacraments. He discarded the 
Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, Fasting, Confession, 
Prayer for the dead and many other pious prac- 
tices; he declared Good Works to be useless and 
taught that man is justified and saved by Faith 
alone. He boasted that he took his doctrine from 
the Bible only; but, being misled by the false rule 
of private judgment in its interpretation, he soon 
fell into the most palpable contradictions and 
errors. Thus he asserted that man has no free 
will and, consequently, that he cannot keep the 
commandments nor avoid evil; that sin does not 
condemn man provided he firmly believe. When 
his impious novelties were condemned by the 
Pope, the impetuous heresiarch attacked the Su- 
premacy of the See of Saint Peter and pushed his 
errors further and further to their logical con- 
sequences. He wrote in coarse and insolent style 
against Purgatory, Free Will, the Merit of Good 
Works; in short, against almost every article of 
the Christian faith. This was the beginning of 



INDULGENCES. 235 

tbat melancholy apostasy which he ventured to 
call a Reformation. Before we proceed further 
let us try to clearly understand the meaning of 
the words: — Catholic, Protestant and Reforma- 
tion. Catholic means universal; and our religion 
to which this title belongs, was called universal be- 
cause all Christian people of every nation ac- 
knowledged it to be the only true religion, and 
because they all acknowledged one and the same 
head of the Church, and this was the Pope who, 
although he generally resided at Rome, was the 
head of the Church in Germany, England, France, 
Spain and in every part of the world where the 
Christian religion was professed. But there came 
a time when some nations, or rather parts of na- 
tions, unwilling to submit to his authority, no 
longer acknowledged him as head of the Church. 
To check the progress of heresy and wickedness 
the Emperor Charles "V in the year fifteen hundred 
and twenty-nine issued a decree to the effect that, 
until the decisions of a general council, Lutheran- 
ism should be tolerated wherever it had already 
been established, but should not be spread any 
further ; that no one should be hindered from say- 
ing or hearing mass; and that all invectives 
against any religion should be prohibited. The 
Lutherans protested against this decree; and, 
from this circumstance, is derived their name of 
Protestants; which appellation has generally been 



236 



IN A NEW WAY. 



given to all who are not Catholics. As to the word 
Eeformation, it means an alteration for the bet- 
ter; and it would have been hard indeed if the 
makers of this great alteration could not have 
contrived to give it a good name. To obtain the 
support of the world in the propagation of his 
impious tenets, Luther exhorted the princes of 
Germany to confiscate the property of the Church. 
It was a tempting bait ; and, the hope of a share 
in the magnificent spoils, drew to his party a large 
number of powerful nobles. Frederic, the Elector 
of Saxony, and Philip, the Landgrave of Hesse, 
openly espoused his cause. The favor of Philip 
was secured, moreover, by other means still more 
shameful. Philip wished to contract a second 
marriage, his first wife being still alive. He ap- 
plied to Luther who assembled the leaders of the 
religious revolt and procured from them permis- 
sion for the Landgrave to have two wives at the 
same time. Luther also assailed the monastic life 
and the celibacy of the clergy; and, to give the 
more effect to his assault, he did not scruple to 
commit the double sacrilege of taking as his wife a 
young nun whom he had enticed from her convent. 
Lessons such as these, enforced by such examples, 
were too acceptable to the corrupt heart of men 
to be neglected and the new sect made rapid pro- 
gress. When Luther found himself at the head of 
a powerful party he abandoned all restraint and 



INDULGENCES. 



237 



poured out a torrent of invective against tlie 
Church, the Pope and the doctrines of the faith. 
It would be a melancholy task, indeed, to peruse 
the coarse jests, the low and disgusting buffoonery 
and the vile indecencies with which his books are 
filled. In one of his books called ^ ^ Tisch— Eeden ' ' 
— Table — Talk'' — sayings of his, collected by 
zealous admirers and carried to all parts of 
Protestant Germany to propagate his work of 
scandal and immorality, he openly professes to 
have had intercourse with the devil. We need 
only compare his gross and violent language with 
that employed by the Pope, or by any other Catho- 
lic controversialist of the day to see and feel the 
infinite distance between the accredited messen- 
gers of God and the teachers of such strange 
novelties. 

In looking back over the long list of evil inflicted 
upon the world by the Lutheran heresy, the most 
disastrous, perhaps, recorded in the history of 
the Church; when we see its cradle stained with 
blood, its birth attended with so many crimes, its 
progress marked by numberless ruins; if we fol- 
low, step by step, the conduct of its author, if we 
consider the duplicity, the results of which de- 
luged his country in blood, the boundless pride and 
ambition which could sacrifice the peace of the 
world to an unholy thirst for glory; if we look into 
the depth.s of that heart which had become the 



238 



m A NEW WAY. 



abode of evil passions, of sliamelessness and base 
desire, it is exceedingly bard to understand the 
blindness of tbose minds for wbicb Luther is still 
a prophet, an apostle sent from God. Difficult, 
indeed, is it to imagine how such a leader could 
have found followers. The relaxation of all re- 
straint, the love of money and of pleasure must 
have deeply corrupted the hearts of people who 
could have stooped to such degradation. The 
most vulgar mind, says Erasmus, must see that the 
man who raised such fearful storms in the world, 
who delighted only in cutting and indecent re- 
marks, was not doing the work of God. Yet the 
Lutherans give to the memory of their Founder, 
the honor which the Church reserves for the 
saints, and which they had condemned as scan- 
dalous impiety in the Catholics. Great, to be sure, 
must be the blindness which can recognize an 
apostolic mission in the ungoverned transports, 
the passionate struggles and the bitter contro- 
versies that make up the so-called Eeformer's life. 
But, as it is not by any means my intention to give 
you an extended history of the so-called Eeforma- 
tion, I must hasten on. I wished, merely, to place 
before you a few pertinent facts, bearing on the 
matter of Indulgences; and, I trust I have said 
enough to make the connection plain and clear. 
The subject is so diverse and lengthy that, to treat 
it from any one view point of the many from which 



INDULGENCES, 



239 



it is possible to consider it, would require much 
time and study. Were I disposed, however, or did 
necessity or the occasion require it, I think I could 
prove to you quite convincingly and very satis- 
factorily that Luther was not a Reformer, whether 
we consider merely his personal character, or the 
moral, social and political results of his teaching. 
Far from reforming anything, he deformed every- 
thing; so much so, that all thoughtful minds of 
this twentieth century are gradually awakening 
to the fact that the movement of the sixteenth cen- 
tury^ headed by the Apostate Saxon Monk, was 
only a Deformation. 

If the Catholic Church was the true church dur- 
ing the sixteen centuries that preceded the 
Lutheran revolt, she certainly could never err or 
swerve from the truth; and, consequently she 
could not have been susceptible of reform. On the 
other hand, if she was not the true Church during 
the long centuries when she was the only Church, 
where was the true church? and, on this supposi- 
tion, those who broke away from her authority 
and, set up new foundations, must be wrong them- 
selves. Erasmus, the most reliable historian of 
the so-called Reformation, says, that the Reforma- 
tion was a comedy which ended, as all comedies do, 
in the marriage of the hero. It was this way : On 
the thirteenth of June, fifteen hundred and twenty- 
five, — eighteen years after he had pronounced his 



240 



m A NEW WAY. 



solemn vows in the convent chapel of Erfurt, 
Luther violated these sacred engagements by se- 
cretly marrying Catherine Bora, a young nun, 
who had been lured from her convent. He had, 
previously, as we noted, openly sanctioned 
adultery, by permitting the Landgrave of Hesse 
to have two wives at the same time; yet through 
fear of incurring the prince's ire, he awaited the 
Landgrave's death before he violated his vows; 
and, when he did so, he scandalized his followers. 
Luther's biographers relate that, on a beautiful 
starlight night, as he and the unfortunate woman 
that he called his wife were walking along to- 
gether, she raised her eyes to the bespangled 
heavens and remarked : ^ ' How beautiful the stars 
seem to-night." ^^Yes," replied her companion, 
' ' they are beautiful to be sure, but they shine not 
for us." 

When Melancthon, who had been a professor 
with Luther in the University of Wittenberg, and 
who is said to have been the most gentlemanly of 
the Reformer's followers, was asked by his aged 
mother which she should do, remain in the old re- 
ligion, or follow the new, he replied: mother, the 
Protestant religion is the religion to live by; but 
the Catholic, is the religion to die by. Melancthon 
told his mother the truth ; but he did not tell her 
the whole truth. For, if the Catholic Faith is the 
one to die by, it must surely be the one also to live 



INDULGENCES. 241 

by. It might not be improper to observe liere 
that a large proportion of the boasting atheists 
who signalized their impiety during the French 
Eevolution, when they came to die, acknowledged 
that their irreligion had been only a pretense, and 
that they never doubted in their hearts of the 
existence of God and the truths of Christianity. 
So, likewise, do these little instances that I have 
just related of Luther and Melancthon, plainly 
indicate the true current of their thoughts regard- 
ing the mischievous work which they had begun 
and propagated. 

You remember the words penned by the Saxon 
Eeformer on the occasion of his first mass. On 
the seventeenth of January, fifteen hundred and 
forty-six, about a month before his death, he again 
wrote to a friend: ^^I am old, decrepit, indolent, 
fatigued, tremulous, and blind of an eye. I hoped 
for repose in my old age, but I have nothing but 
suffering. Just one month later, on the seven- 
teenth of February, fifteen hundred and forty-six, 
Luther seized a piece of chalk and wrote upon the 
wall of his room: '^Pestis eram, vivens; morions, 
ero mors tua, papa.'' While I lived I was thy 
pest; dying, I will be thy death, 0 Pope!" How 
different from his words on the occasion of his 
first mass and of his first visit to Eome I 

He died on the night of the eighteenth of Feb- 
ruary, fifteen hundred and forty-six, with a 



242 



IN A NEVV WAY. 



blasphemy on Hs lips. For his poor Catherine 
and her children, nobody seemed to care. They 
lived and died in poverty and misery, after vainly 
seeking for the support of the Protestant princes 
and the Eef ormer 's other admirers. 

Several centuries have now passed since Martin 
Luther, the Apostate Monk, went to his eternal 
account; but the Church of Christ which he so 
shamefully abandoned, and her glorious head that 
he would have crushed, still live on, triumphant 
and unconquerable as ever. ^^Were Luther,'' says 
a writer, *Ho rise from his grave he could not pos- 
sibly recognize as his own, or as members of the 
society which he founded, those teachers who, in 
their church, would fain, nowadays, be considered 
as his successors. The dissolution of the 
Protestant church is inevitable; her frame is so 
thoroughly rotten that no farther patching will 
avail. The whole structure of evangelical re- 
ligion is shattered and few look with sympathy on 
its tottering or its fall. Growing immorality, a 
consequence of contempt for religion, in many 
places, concurs, also, as a cause to its deeper down- 
fall. The multitude cut the knot that galls them, 
march boldly forward and fling themselves into 
the arms of atheism and infidelity in thought and 
deed.''* 

While the sects that broke from the Church, like 

♦Anonymous. 



INDULGENCES. 



243 



rotten branches, are hastening to speedy disin- 
tegration and are falling to pieces, the Eoman 
Catholic Church stands like a mighty, living, 
energizing oak of the forest, or, rather, like some 
majestic monument amid the desert of antiquity, 
just in its proportions, sublime in its associations ; 
rich in the virtue of its saints; cemented by the 
blood of its martyrs; pouring forth for ages the 
unbroken series of its venerable hierarchy; and, 
like the pyramid in the desert, only the more mag- 
nificent, from the ruins by which it is surrounded. 
Its light is light from heaven; it will assist us, 
its children, through the paths of our earthly pil- 
grimage ; and, if we only persevere, good, faithful 
Catholics, to the end, like the fiery pillar of the 
chosen Israel, it will cheer the desert of our bond- 
age and light us to the land of our liberation. 



^'He is risen, He is not here, behold the place 
where they laid Him.'' Saint Mark XVL 



RESURRECTION, 



As I look into your faces at the close of this 
time-honored and beautiful festal day, I notice 
that those who are here to-night, are the same, 
with perhaps a few exceptions, that have followed 
me in my discourses, each Sunday evening, during 
the Lenten season, that, once again, has come anc^» 
passed away. Those of you who have listened to 
me, regularly and attentively, in the course of 
these sermons, will remember, as you recall them, 
that they are all to some extent, connected. We 
started out with *'The Good Catholic's Daily 
Life." Our duties and obligations towards God, 
our neighbor and ourselves which form the make- 
up of this ^' Daily Life," are discharged in Time 
and are rewarded or punished in Eternity. Logi- 
cally, therefore, the one subject follows the other. 
We, then, took our stand on that mysterious bridge 
wliich separates these two periods of our exist- 
ence, a bridge, that we must all, eventually, pass 
over ; and we noticed how safely and how calmly 
he journeys across the sea of Time to the shore 
of Eternity who keeps the headlight of Death as 



248 



IN A NEW WAY. 



his beacon always before him. Afterwards, in a 
sermon of an entirely different nature from cny 
of the foregoing, we learned how powerful an aid 
to correct and perfect living, is the constant and 
prudent government of the Tongue. Finally, the 
Cross, as the symbol and as the daily portion of 
the Christian, has led us up, in fitting conclusion, 
to the consideration of the grandest and sublimest 
of Christian mysteries — Christ's Eesurrection. 0 
holy Feast of Easter! how dear thou shouldst be 
to every truly Catholic heart ! For if, at any time, 
the life of our Blessed Lord upon earth seemed a 
failure, if ever conquest appeared triumphant and 
complete, it was surely when the Blessed Body 
of the World's Eedeemer hung lifeless upon the 
infamous gibbet of the cross. Hell was then ap- 
parently victorious. Its blind instruments, the 
ungrateful Jews, had exercised their pleasure on 
the Son of God. They traduced Him as a male- 
factor and impostor, and He said nothing to the 
charge. They offered to believe Him, if He came 
down from the cross; but. He declined the chal- 
lenge. By His loud acclamations to His heavenly 
Father He even appeared to countenance their 
triumph, and finally completed their conviction 
by closing His eyes before them in death. 

But vain, utterly vain, are the schemes of men, 
whose highest wisdom must be forever branded 
as folly, when they conflict with the purposes 



KESURRECTIOlsr. 



249 



of the Most High. God's ways are not our ways; 
neither are His thoughts our thoughts. For, did 
it not behoove Christ, as the sacred text assures us, 
to suffer such things and so enter into His rest? 

Destroy this temple'' said Jesus, ^^and in three 
days I will raise it up." Did not those shining 
ministers of heaven who descended in dazzling 
array on that first glorious Easter morn and re- 
moved with angelic ease the ponderous obstruc- 
tion, declare to the wondering and affrighted 
Mary ! * * He is risen, He is not here : behold the 
place where they laid Him." Yes, Jesus Christ 
has risen ! The great purpose for which He came 
on earth has been triumphantly accomplished; 
the stupendous facts prophesied of the World's 
Eedeemer have all been minutely carried out; 
the humiliations of the Passion have given 
place to the glories of the Eesurrection ; the pains 
and sorrows of Good Friday pale and vanish 
in the sunlit joys of Easter. Yes, Jesus 
Christ has risen. He has laid aside the trappings 
of death and the grave and has gone forth im- 
mortal and impassible forever. Yes, Jesus Christ 
has risen, and His glorious resurrection from 
the tomb is the keystone in the arch of faith, 
the most brilliant luminary in the constella- 
tion of Christian festivals, and, as such, is well 
deserving of lifelong contemplation and study; 
for, as the apostle says, ^4f Christ be not risen, 



250 



IN A NEW WAY. 



then is our preacliing vain and your faith is also 
vain.'' I Cor. XV-14. 

Christ's triumph over sin and death and hell is 
unquestionably the greatest, the grandest, the 
crowning proof of His divine and heavenly mis- 
sion, the confirmation of our unconquerable faith, 
the pledge of our immortal hope and the founda- 
tion stone of that old and stupendous structure — 
Christianity. In fact the Eesurrection of Christ 
rests on so solid a foundation that it is professed 
by every Christian sect, as well as by orthodox 
christians. Our Blessed Savior Himself fre- 
quently predicted, in attestation of His Godhead, 
that He would rise again the third day after His 
death. This He declared was to be the decisive 
proof of His heavenly mission and the confirma- 
tion for evermore of the truth of His utterances. 
When the Scribes and Pharisees demanded a 
miracle as an evidence that He was the Messiah 
He replied: ^'A wicked and adulterous generation 
seeketh a sign, and a sign shall not be given it, 
but the sign of Jonas the prophet; for as Jonas 
was in the belly of the whale three days and three 
nights, so shall the son of man be in the heart of 
the earth three days and three nights." Matt. 
XII-39. 

On another occasion the Jews answered and said 
to Him: ^'What sign dost Thou give seeing that 
Thou dost these things? Jesus answered and 



KESUERECTION. 



251 



said to tliem: Destroy this temple and in three 
day I will raise it up. The Jews, thinking that 
He referred to their temple of worship said: six 
and forty years was this temple in building and 
wilt Thou raise it up in three days? But Jesus 
spoke of the temple of His body. When, therefore. 
He was risen again from the dead. His disciples 
remembered that He had said this and they be- 
lieved the scripture and the word that Jesus had 
said St. John II 18-22. 

Indeed, so well aware were the enemies of 
Christ of His prophecy with regard to His resur- 
rection, and so clearly did they understand the 
purpose of our Savior's prediction, that, the next 
day which followed the day of preparation, the 
chief priests and Pharisees came together to Pi- 
late, saying : ' ' Sir, we have remembered that that 
seducer said while he was yet alive; After three 
days I will rise again. Command, therefore, the 
sepulchre to be guarded until the third day, lest 
perhaps, his disciples come and steal him away, 
and say to the people : He is risen from the dead 
and the last error shall be worse than the first. 
Pilate said to them ; you have a guard, go, guard 
it as you know. And they, departing, made the 
sepulchre sure, sealing the stone and setting 
guards. Matt. XXVII-62. And thus the very pre- 
cautions which they fancied would destroy the 
notion of Christ's Eesurrection, served but to es- 



252 



IN A NEW WAY. 



tablish its belief beyond the possibility of a doubt. 
In His familiar conversation with His chosen dis- 
ciples, our Blessed Lord frequently referred to, 
and clearly foretold, His Kesurrection from the 
dead. 

On one occasion when they abode together in 
Galilee, He said to them : * ' The Son of Man shall 
be betrayed into the hands of men and they shall 
kill Him and the third day He shall rise again.'' 
Matt. XVII. 

There can be no doubt, then, that our Blessed 
Savior prophesied His own Resurrection. That 
He actually rose from the dead, in fulfillment of 
His prediction, is abundantly proved by the most 
overwhelming testimony. We read in the 28th 
chapter of the gospel of Saint Matthew that Mary 
Magdalen and some other holy women, whose 
piety never wearied of the service of Christ, went 
betimes, in the morning to perfume the body of 
their Lord. On their journey to the sepulchre 
they questioned among themselves how they should 
be able to roll away the stone from the entrance 
of the monument, for it was very great. But, as 
they drew nigh they perceived that the stone was 
rolled away and the entrance open; and, looking 
into the sepulchre, they saw an angel in the shape 
of a young man clothed in white, sitting on the 
right side, who thus addressed them. '^Fear not 
you, for I know you seek Jesus, who was crucified. 



RESUERECTION. 



253 



He is not here, for He is risen, as He said. Come 
and see the place where the Lord was laid. And 
going quickly tell ye His disciples that He is risen : 
and behold He will go before you into Galilee: 
There you shall see Him. Lo, I have foretold it 
to you.'^ They hastened at once to execute their 
commission and upon their report, Saint Peter 
and Saint John repaired to the monument, and 
entering saw the linen cloths lying and the hand- 
kerchief which had been about His head wrapped 
up ; but, being able to discover nothing more, de- 
parted for their home. Mary Magdalen, however, 
lingered, weeping near the mouth of the sepulchre, 
and eager to find Him whom she loved, she stooped 
down, and, looking into the tomb, perceived two 
angels in white apparel, sitting, one at the head 
and the other at the foot where the sacred body 
had lain. They asked her why she wept. Because, 
said she, they have taken away my Lord and I 
know not where they have laid Him. She turned 
around, and seeing a man there standing unknown 
to her, took him for the gardener and said : ' ' Sir, 
if you have taken Him, tell me, where you have 
laid Him. Jesus said, Mary!'' Mary knew him 
at the word and in an ecstasy of joy, exclaimed: 
''Eabboni, which is to say. Master! Do not 
touch me, said Jesus, for I am not yet ascended 
to my Father, but tell my brethren that I ascend 
to my Father and to your Father, to my God 



254 



IN A XEW WAY. 



and to your God.'' Thus does the Evangehst 
describe the first apparition of our Savior after 
His glorious Eesurrection from the tomb. On 
the same day He appeared also to the holy 
women who were returning from the monument ; 
to Saint Peter; to two of the disciples who 
were on a journey to a neighboring town, and 
to the Apostles as they sat at table. He, 
likewise appeared to His apostles, again as- 
sembled after eight days ; to some of His disciples 
who were fishing on the sea of Tiberias: to the 
eleven Apostles in Galilee on the Mount where he 
had appointed to meet them, and to which appari- 
tion it is thought Saint Paul alluded, when he said 
that He was seen by more than five hundred 
brethren at once. Lastly, He was seen by His 
beloved disciples in whose presence He was borne 
aloft into heaven where He sitteth at the right 
hand of God and whence He shall come again in 
great power and majesty to judge the living and 
the dead. 

It must be observed that the manifestations of 
our risen Lord were so evident and so frequent as 
to leave no room for doubt, denial or contention 
about the truth of His Eesurrection in the flesh. 
He did not present himself to His disciples as a 
spectral shadow, neither were His visits the sud- 
den and transient apparitions of a disembodied 
spirit. He continued to frequent their company: 



KESUREECTJON. 



255 



He conversed with them ; instructed them, and ate 
and drank in their presence. When the Apostles 
were slow to believe, He gently reproved them 
saying, *'See my hands and my feet that it is I 
myself, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as 
you see me to have/' To the incredulous Thomas 
who declared in presence of his brethren that un- 
less he would see in His hands and feet the print 
of the nails, and put his hand in the wound in His 
side he would not believe. Our Savior said: '^Put 
in thy finger hither, and see my hands ; and bring 
hither thy hand and put it into my side ; and be not 
incredulous but believing.'' Thereupon Thomas 
exclaimed : ' ' My Lord and my God ! ' ' Yes. ' ' Be- 
cause thou hast seen me, Thomas, thou hast 
believed. Blessed are they that have not seen and 
have believed. ' ' 

The history of Christ's Eesurrection must be 
tested by the ordinary evidence brought to bear on 
the examination of any historical fact. "We de- 
pend, in a great measure, for our information, on 
the statements of others. Most of the people of 
the United States, for example, know only from 
hearsay that such cities as London, Dublin or Paris 
exist; while the human race relies on the pages 
of history for their belief that Caesar was assas- 
sinated, that Columbus discovered America, or 
that Tyre and Sidon once flourished. Now the fact 
of Christ's Eesurrection from the dead is recorded 



256 



TX A NEW WAY. 



in the books of the New Testament, the authen- 
ticity of which is acknowledged by the severest 
critics ; to the veracity of which the haughtiest rea- 
son submits ; and, which sound philosophy, resting 
on their truth and authenticity, concludes from 
the one and the other to be divinely inspired. If, 
then, the Resurrection as described by the Evan- 
gelists be not a fact, we must infer, either that 
the Apostles were themselves deceived; or, that 
they were deceivers. Now they could not possibly 
have been deceived, for not once only, but several 
times, under different circumstances, and at vary- 
ing hours during the space of forty days, they had 
every sensible proof which man could require that 
they, in all truth and reality, beheld their risen 
Savior ; and, consequently, there is not the slight- 
est ground for supposing that such reliable wit- 
nesses could have possibly been mistaken; other- 
wise no reliance could be placed on human testi- 
mony on which all history, whether sacred or pro- 
fane, must necessarily rest. Neither, could they 
have been deceivers ; for, what could they possibly 
gain by deception? Certainly, such a course of 
action would not have advanced their worldly in- 
terests; they made no money by it; neither could 
they thereby obtain honors, fame, or worldly in- 
fluence. On the contrary, they knew and felt, as 
they afterwards experienced, that, by proclaiming 



EESURRECTION. 



257 



the Eesurrection of Jesus Christ, and preaching in 
His name, only scourges, chains and cruel death 
awaited them on every side. Yet they faltered 
not, made no secret of their faith, but preached 
their Eisen Lord publicly and boldly. They even 
wrought miracles for the express purpose of vin- 
dicating the truth of the Eesurrection, and conse- 
quently, of putting beyond all doubt the claims of 
Christianity to the acceptance of mankind. If civ- 
ilized nations regard the verdict of twelve jury- 
men as the most approved and equitable mode of 
deciding questions of the greatest moment, how 
can we discredit the unanimous testimony of 
twelve Apostolic witnesses who saw with their 
eyes, heard with their ears and touched with their 
hands their risen Lord ; who devoted their lives to 
the proclamation of this stupendous miracle ; who 
preached it, not in obscure corners of the earth, 
but in Jerusalem itself ; who converted thousands 
of hearers who had ample opportunities of test- 
ing the correctness of their declaration; who suf- 
fered stripes and imprisonment rather than deny 
it ; and who, finally, sealed the dogma of the Ees- 
urrection, with the testimony of their blood. The 
Eesurrection of Christ from the dead is then the 
most splendid testimony of His divinity ; the key- 
stone in the arch of faith; and the most brilliant 
luminary in the constellation of Christian fes- 
tivals. 



258 



IN A NEW WAY. 



Easter-day grows larger as the years move on, 
and rests upon a much wider basis, as in ever- 
varying form it takes its place in that more exten- 
sive Easter to which the whole creation bears wit- 
ness. It tells us that the law of life about us and 
within us, is, that darkness and evil cannot reign 
supreme. The pendulum of the great clock of the 
ages swings to and fro. But those who look up 
at the vast, slow hands upon the face, see that 
they move forward only. That there is a budding 
morrow in midnight, is the message of the larger 
Easter of the universe. When Saint Paul first 
preached to the people of Athens, and related to 
them the wondrous life of Jesus, as it is recorded 
in the gospel, they perceived the marvelous genius 
of Christ as it is displayed in the parable of the 
Prodigal Son, and His grandeur and power in the 
series of works told by the Evangelist. They re- 
ceived the doctrine of the divine birth of Jesus 
with favor and belief ; for, they were accustomed 
to think of their heroes as born of a union, con- 
tracted between gods and men. But, when Saint 
Paul began to throw the bridge of the Eesurrec- 
tion across the eternities, he was interrupted by 
his hearers, and his audience dispersed in con- 
fusion. This argues that the Eesurrection, as the 
proof of life after death, is the most startling doc- 
trine the Church has ever advanced for the belief 
and investigation of the world. It is the bugle call 



RESUREECTIOK. 



259 



of God to every brain, to every soul ; and it is re- 
ceived with derision, on the one hand, and with 
devotion on the other. And so, as no historic fact 
was ever more invincibly established than that our 
Blessed Savior actually died and rose again in His 
own flesh; so no dogma of our holy Faith is more 
clearly proved, or more undeniably certain, than 
that we shall all rise again in the Eesurrection on 
the last and awful day of Judgment. 

That ancient and chosen people of God, the 
Jews, believed it: Christ symbolized and testified 
to its truth by His own Resurrection; and Holy 
Church in all her confessions, precepts and de- 
cisions, has ever adhered most firmly to it. We 
ourselves make profession of our belief in this 
stupendous article of our Holy Faith every day of 
our lives; and, as often as we repeat that beauti- 
ful compendium of our religion, the Apostles 
Creed — when, after acknowledging our belief in 
all the truths therein contained, we finally con- 
clude by saying: credo carnis Resurrectionem 
et vitam aeternum, ' ^ I believe in the Resurrection 
of the body and life everlasting. 

Upon this consoling doctrine did the holy and 
the just, the best and greatest men of all ages and 
nations rest their faith, to this did they look for- 
ward. Holy Job, that unequalled model of perfect 
patience and resignation, dejected and alone, long 
centuries ago, looking down through the vista of 



260 



m A NEW WAY. 



futurity, burst forth into those admirable and 
comforting words, that have ever since been the 
hope and stay of succeeding generations. ^ * I know 
that my Redeemer liveth and that in the last day 
I shall rise again from the earth, and in my flesh 
I shall see God my Savior. This my hope is laid 
up in my bosom.'' 

With the same invincible assurance did in- 
numerable martyrs support themselves, amid tor- 
ments the bare narration of which, fills us with 
fear and dread. With the same unfailing hope did 
the penitents of the desert encourage themselves 
under their most severe and cruel privations ; and 
with the same, likewise, shall you and I be able to 
smile over our corporal dissolution and descend, 
even with complacency, into the dust from which 
we borrowed our existence. Yes, our bodies shall 
indeed go down into the grave ; and, mingling with 
the common mass, lie there, unheeded and for- 
gotten, perhaps for ages; the ceaseless wheel of 
time will pass and repass over them, and the winds 
and storms of heaven sing our requiem, as ages 
fade into each other. The gay and careless world 
will laugh and jog on as of yore ; the solemn brood 
of care plod on ; the busy foot of unthinking man 
echo again and again within our silent mansion 
of repose ; and each shall chase his favorite phan- 
tom as before; but the sequel is as infallible as 
God himself; the day, the unerring day shall at 



EESURRFX!TION. 



261 



length arrive, when it shall suddenly start from its 
long last sleep and its vital functions shall play 
again with all the vigor and buoyancy of youth. 
By what immediate agency this wonderful change 
shall be effected; is not at present, our business 
to inquire. It is enough for us to know that He 
Whose almighty fiat called into existence immen- 
sity and all its wonders, who created the original 
mass out of nothing, can as easily reassemble its 
scattered ingredients, and reorganize what was 
only for a time dissolved. This great day may be, 
as yet, remote, as it is unquestionably unknown, 
and impenetrably hid in the infinite wisdom and 
knowledge of Almighty God ; but, do not imagine 
that it is on that account the less fixed or inevi- 
table. It is not more true that this day is than 
that that shall be. Passing away is engraved on 
all things earthly. Kingdoms, empires, and repub- 
lics have arisen, flourished, and fallen. The great 
affairs of nations and the private concerns of in- 
dividuals are equally disappearing, and making 
room for that grand catastrophe which will close 
the series of time and give the finishing page to 
human history. On that great and awful day we 
shall all finally meet again; in resurrection we 
shall all be contemporaries. You and I may have 
different fortunes. Destiny may divide us and 
scatter us broadcast over the world, but here, at 
last, we shall infallibly meet; and, after the long 



262 



m A NEW V\^AY. 



lapse of intervening ages, take on again tlie forms 
by which we are now distinguished, perhaps call 
to mind the occasion that now assembles ns to- 
gether, and look back to the anticipation that has 
been to-day suggested. Many times, no doubt, as 
we view the life around us, the words of Jeremias 
and Job suggest themselves to us also: ''Why 
doth the way of the wicked prosper ; and why is it 
well with all them that transgress and do wick- 
edly?^' Nay, frequently, even some Catholics who 
know but little of the world, and are not accus- 
tomed to the struggle, feel their faith and religious 
zeal weaken before the multitude of scandals, and 
dangers, and unfavorable circumstances in which 
they are placed for the practice of piety and de- 
votion. They see the cold and common indiffer- 
ence, the levity and extravagance of customs : the 
marked positiveness that dominates all classes; 
the affluence of some people, apparently without 
religion or restraint, who, notwithstanding every- 
thing, live and die without occupying themselves 
with their future destiny, and without the chastise- 
ment and remorse which, according to the Catholic 
Faith, ought to accompany the impious during 
their lives of perpetual disorder. Such as these 
would do well to recall with frequency and atten- 
tion, the words of our Blessed Lord in the parable 
of the cockle : ' ' Suffer both to grow until the har- 
vest; and, in the time of the harvest, I will say to 



EESUERECTION. 



263 



the reapers : Gather up first the cockle, and bind 
it into bundles to burn, but the wheat gather ye 
into my barn.'' Matt. XIII. 24-30. Criminally 
abusing their liberty, men may make what they 
please of this present life; but the day is inevi- 
tably coming, when all iniquity shall stop its 
mouth, and when Divine Justice will mete to each 
and everyone the reward or punishment he de- 
serves. 

And if now, we sometimes marvel that here be- 
low the good suffer wrongly and the wicked go un- 
punished ; if you and I ever find ourselves the vic- 
tims of mockery, raillery or deception, oh, rest 
assured that Eesurrection day will right all 
wrongs ; correct every error, and fully, completely, 
and satisfactorily vindicate the claims of injured 
justice. Yes, if there are any difficulties in the 
ways of God or of those who serve Him, Eesurrec- 
tion Day will fully solve them all. If the martyrs 
suffered themselves to be made the sport of cruelty 
in every possible shape and form, Resurrection 
Day will be their Justification. If thousands of 
penitents crowded to the deserts and there sub- 
mitted themselves to torments which some would 
call extravagant, Eesurrection Day will be their 
ample apology. Yes, and if some, even in this ad- 
vanced stage of the world's history, this enlight- 
ened but wicked twentieth century, are found to 
throw away; the choicest worldly advantages, to 



264 



IN A NEW WAY. 



devote themselves to the hard and unremitting toil 
and ungrateful work of God's ministry, and others 
to immure themselves in the gloom and destitution 
of a cloister, Eesurrection Day will stamp their 
censured choice with the truest wisdom. In fine, 
to whatever apparent successive lengths the ser- 
vants of God may have pushed their holy fervor, 
Eesurrection Day will immediately correct every 
appearance and triumphantly vindicate their re- 
puted folly. 

I emphatically repeat that, while this beautiful 
and consoling belief of Mother Church is calcu- 
lated to arouse our faith, it is, at the same time, 
especially and significantly fitted to enhance and 
animate our hope. Where is the mother who could 
even for a single instant wilfully harbor the 
thought that she will never again behold the little 
one that perished like a blossom from her arms; 
the tender husband, that the wife of his bosom will 
never again rejoin him, the aged parent that death 
has parted her forever from the dear, familiar 
form, of the boy who was the staff and stay of her 
declining years ! Oh yes, there is a hope that sur- 
vives the tomb, promises and anticipations which 
we all fondly trust will some day meet with a 
bright and happy realization. When this world 
presents but a gloomy prospect, when fortune 
frowns and all seems dark and drear, how sweet 
and consoling to look forward to that other, where 



RERUBRECTTOK", 



265 



all is bright and fair. When we mourn over the 
lost friends of our tenderest affection; when we 
behold the gentle forms of youth and beauty low- 
ered deep down into the ground, and hear the cold 
and cruel clods of earth fall thick and heavily on 
the last mortal remains of the holy and the pure, 
the innocent and the good, how encouraging the 
hope that we shall all be reunited again, that Kes- 
urrection Day will bring about a meeting that shall 
know no parting. 

If the mere conception of the reunion of good 
men in a future state could infuse a momentary 
rapture into the mind of an ancient pagan philoso- 
pher ; if an airy speculation could inspire him with 
such delight ; what may we be expected to feel who 
are assured of such an event by the true sayings 
of God Himself? How should we rejoice in the 
prospect, the certainty rather, of spending a bliss- 
ful eternity with those whom we loved on earth; 
of seeing them emerge from the ruins of the tomb, 
and the still deeper ruins of the Fall, not only 
uninjured, but refined and perfected? What de- 
light will it not then afford us to renew the sweet 
counsels we have taken together; to recount the 
toils of combat and the labor of the way ; and to 
approach, not the house alone, but the very throne 
of God in company, in order to join in the sym- 
phony of heavenly voices and lose ourselves 



266 



IN A NEW WAY. 



amidst the splendors and frnitions of the Beatifie 
Vision ! 

To those whose faith and hope extend not be- 
yond the narrow limits of the tomb ; who say that 
with death all ends ; and who deny a future state 
of unending existence; to those, of course, the 
grand, the sublime and inspiring truths embodied 
in this joyous Easter festival, can offer no consola- 
tion. But, for us who are not ignorant concerning 
them that are asleep, we should not be sorrowful 
even as those who have no hope. For if, says the 
Apostle Saint Paul, ^'we believe that Jesus died 
and rose again, even so those who have slept 
through Jesus will God bring with Him." We 
know that death is, at most, but a long and lamp- 
less night in which we make the grave our bed; 
and, as no night is without its morn, so will the 
night of death give place to the bright morn of 
immortality; and that for the temporary separa- 
tion that follows in the destroyer's steps there will 
spring up bright creations to defy his power, and 
his dark path will become for us a way of light to 
heaven. This is the joy; this is the hope that Eas- 
ter brings; and, that this joy, this hope may re- 
main with us all, during the days of our pilgrim- 
age here, and be a secure pledge of our own glori- 
ous resurrection hereafter, is a blessing I ask for 
all who have listened to my wor<is. 



Heaven and earth shall pass, but my words shall 
not pass. Matt. C. XXIV— V. 37. 

There is nothing covered that shall not be re- 
vealed: nor hidden, that shall not be known. 
Luke XII— 2. 

It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the 
Living God. Heb. X— 31. 

I will gather together all nations, and will bring 
them down into the Valley of Josaphat. J oel III 
—2. 

But the day of the Lord shall come as a thief: 
in which the heavens shall pass away with great 
violence, and the elements shall be melted with 
heat, and the earth and the works which are in it, 
shall be burnt up. II Saint Peter III — 10. 



JVDGMENT. 



The condemnation of the rich glutton who, at 
the time of his death was buried in hell, and the 
happy end of poor Lazarus who, on his departure 
from this vale of tears, was immediately trans- 
lated into Abraham's bosom, plainly show that the 
soul undergoes a particular judgment the moment 
that death separates it from the body. But, be- 
sides this particular judgment which awaits us all 
on our departure hence, the Almighty has, like- 
wise, appointed a day of general reckoning, when 
all mankind, without exception, shall be summoned 
before His awful tribunal to render an account 
of their works. 

Nor is it without a purpose that holy Church 
at this particular season places before us the ter- 
rors of Judgment Day. As with the penitential 
time of Advent she commences another of her 
years, so in placing before us for our considera- 
tion and meditation on the first Sunday of this 
same holy season, so terrifying a subject, she 
wishes that we look back over the years that we 
have already lived, and forward to those which 



270 m A NEW WAY. 

a merciful Creator may yet be pleased to grant us. 

If, then, in the course of these reflections, there 
occur aught calculated to arouse your fear, or to 
impress you with sentiments of alarm and dread, 
profit by them to remedy the failures of the past ; 
to right the present ; and, by these means, prepare 
to meet, not alone that future over which death 
stands watchman and whose ending is the grave, 
but, also, that greater, wider, and more awful 
future that shall know no end. 

The mighty universe of which our habitable 
globe forms so small a portion has been in exist- 
ence well nigh six thousand years. The constel- 
lations have their risings and their settings, and 
the great cycles through which this material world 
passes without decay and which measure time to 
man, go on, now, as of yore. The same powerful 
orb whose rising and setting marks the birth and 
death of each day's life, still gladdens the earth 
as on the first bright morning of its creation, and 
is still casting the same rays of light and heat 
on the people of to-day, that it did on the myriads 
whose race is run. But, let us not deceive our- 
selves ; indefinite duration is not the final destiny 
of this universe. It will not find its termination 
only in the imperceptible crumbling of its mate- 
rials or clogging of its wheels. No ages of long 
and deepening twilight shall gradually bring the 
last setting of the sunj no mountains, sinking 



JUDGMENT. 271 

•under the decrepitude of years, nor weary rivers, 
ceasing to rejoice in their courses, shall prepare 
men for the final abolition of this earth. But, the 
time shall most certainly come when the world 
shall have fallen on its last days, and when the 
shadow of approaching doom shall lie deep and 
dark on every human heart. Yes, a time shall most 
surely come when the system of the thousand 
worlds that rolled through space at the first bid- 
ding of the Almighty, shall give evidence to the 
world of its approaching destruction and that their 
own purpose is nearing its completion. A time 
when the goodly frame of all things visible shall 
be rent and crushed by the mighty arm of its omni- 
potent Maker, and when the same divine hand that 
so wonderfully drew the elements from the dark 
and troubled slumbers of their nothingness shall 
cast them into their tomb, that they may no longer 
stand between His Face and the creatures whom 
He shall come to judge. 

The particular time or day allotted for this uni- 
versal judgment has never been revealed to any 
creature; and, consequently, is known to God 
alone. Sacred Scripture, however, assures us that 
there shall be signs in the stars; the moon shall 
pale, and the sun shall refuse to give its light. 
Upon earth there shall be distress of nations, men 
withering away with fear in expectation of what 
shall come upon them. There will be wars, fam- 



272 IN A NEW WAY. 

ines and pestilences. Eumor will follow rumor, 
as shadow follows shadow when clouds are blown 
across the troubled heavens, raising vague forms 
of some infinite terror in the heart of the world ^s 
last generations, and warning them that the end 
of all things is at hand. In fine, when the last 
mortal man shall have succumbed to the general 
doom of nature, and this whole world shall have 
become one universal sepulchre and shall have 
entombed all humanity, then, shall the commis- 
sioned angel descend like lightning from heaven 
and, placing one foot on the sea and the other on 
the land, shall proclaim to the buried nations that 
time shall be no more, and shall send o'er hill and 
dale, o 'er sea and river, that final awakening blast, 
Arise, ye dead, and come to Judgment. 

At the wailing note of the archangePs trumpet, 
the graves will burst their narrow boundaries ; the 
sea give up its dead; and the countless millions 
that have peopled all the centuries, clothed again 
with their mortal bodies, shall be marshalled to- 
gether to the Valley of Judgment. 

Now, use your imagination to its farthest limits 
and picture to yourselves an immense plain, 
stretching away to the uttermost point of vision 
and blackened on every side with human beings. 
Two eminences raise their heads over the assem- 
l)led multitudes and add their weighty significance 
to the impending event : they are Moi;nt Calvar^^ 



JUDGMENT. 



273 



a standing testimony of the telling drama once 
enacted on its awful summit; and Mount Olivet 
from whose cloud-capped top the world's Ee- 
deemer was borne aloft into heaven. Presently, a 
light breaks upon the vision of the assembled 
throng, a mere speck at first, but gradually gain- 
ing in intensity as the dead file into columns at 
the approach of the angels of Judgment. Anon, 
the Son of Man, appears in a cloud with great 
power and majesty, bearing aloft the thrice and 
ever-blessed cross — the sacred symbol of the 
world's redemption. ^^And, then, shall all the 
tribes of the earth mourn, and the wicked shall 
call upon the hills to cover them and the moun- 
tains to shield them from the wrath of the Lamb. ' ' 
And, oh, what an assembly that will be! There 
will be gathered together all the countless beings 
that have ever lived, from our First Parents, down 
to the last man that shall draw the breath of life : 
— all the swarming millions that flourished in the 
days before the Flood ; all the unnumbered victims 
that perished on every battle-field of the world; 
the infinite hosts swept away in all the floods, con- 
flagrations and heart-rending catastrophes record- 
ed on the pages of ancient and modern history. 
There will be the strangled babe and the guilty 
mother ; the darling child called away in the days 
of its purity and innocence, and the father grown 
old in his iniquities. There will be the wild and 



274 



IN A NEW WAY. 



wayward boy and his reserved and modest 
brother ; the wanton girl and her chaste and retir- 
ing sister ; the wife that toiled and sorrowed, and 
the husband that was hard-hearted, over-exacting, 
and cruel. The sinner, to his confusion and dis- 
may, will there meet his accomplice in crime, and 
the good man will behold again the friends that 
he encouraged on the heavenward road. And we 
will be there, too ; you will recognize me and I shall 
recognize you; for, just as surely as we are as- 
sembled here to-day in the unseen Presence of 
Jesus in the Tabernacle, just as surely as the sun 
shines in the heavens above and the earth sustains 
our feet, just as surely as God liveth and has said 
it, just so surely shall we one day be marshalled 
to judgment, just so surely shall we fall into our 
place at the bidding of the Angel's trumpet. 

And, what, pray you, will be the subject of this 
Judgment? Every thought that men have con- 
ceived, from the first glad feeling of enraptured 
admiration that arose in the hearts of our First 
Parents, when, in wonderment and awe, they first 
looked out upon the newly made world, down to 
the last thought on the mind of him who shall be 
the last to die. All the words that were ever ut- 
tered, in blessing or in cursing, in earnest or in 
jest ; for, as Holy Writ declares : * ' For every idle 
word that men shall speak, they shall render an 
account of it on the day of Judgment. You shall 



JUDGMENT. 



275 



be summoned to a most rigorous account for every 
mass you have heard and every confession you 
have made; I, for every holy sacrifice I have of- 
fered and absolution I have imparted. Yours will 
be the Judgment of a simple Catholic christian, 
mine will be the judgment of a priest. All the 
thoughts, words and deeds of childhood, youth, 
manhood's prime, and tottering age; the good we 
might have done and did not do; the ignorance, 
malice, and short-comings of a life time, — all shall 
be carefully unfiled for the most rigid and exact- 
ing scrutiny, before a judge who receives no bribes, 
takes no excuses, but will judge that which is just. 
Truly, in the presence of such harrowing 
thoughts as these, we are constrained to cry out 
with holy Church : Dies irae, dies ilia, 

Day of wrath, that dreadful day. 

What shall guilty I then plead? 

Who for me will intercede. 

When the saints shall comfort need? 

Judge of justice, hear my prayer; 
Spare me. Lord, in mercy spare; 
Ere the reckoning — day appear. 

When the final sentence shall have been pro- 
nounced, the elect and reprobate shall go their dif- 
ferent ways, to meet no more while heaven de- 
lights, while hell torments, while God Himself 
reigns on. To die and part is a less evil ; but, to 



276 



IN A NEW WAY. 



part and live; there, there is the torment. And, 
oh, what partings there shall be ! The line of sepa- 
ration will be drawn between those who were 
united by the closest bonds. The child will be sepa- 
rated from the mother that bore him ; father, from 
the son of his affection, and friend from the friend 
of his bosom. Mother will be separated from 
daughter; wife, from husband; and pastor, from 
people. On this side of the grave, even the part- 
ings that are severest on flesh and blood, are not 
entirely devoid of hope. In the farewell of the 
emigrant, torn by cruel fate from country and 
friends, hope smiles in his tears ; the fortune that 
drives away, may bring back again ; while, in the 
separation entailed by death itself, we look for- 
ward, at least, to an eternal union in heaven. But, 
the parting that will follow the judgment sen- 
tence will leave no fissure in its cloud for the gleam 
of hope: it will be final and irrevocable. The 
wicked will descend to their place of torment, 
never again to behold the faces of those they loved ; 
never again to hear the dear voices that once 
sounded like sweet music to their ears; never 
again to bask beneath the smiles that were the sun- 
shine of their lives. They shall have lost all that is 
good, and shall be in everlasting possession of all 
that is evil. They will depart from the Valley of 
Judgment, branded with the Savior's malediction, 
and shall begin their unending punishment with 



JUDGMENT. 



277 



line awful picture of the Last Judgment indelibly 
engraven on their souls, and with the bitter and 
unavailing truth ever before them that they might 
have been saved; and that, never as long as God 
shall be God, will their torments end. 

Judgment Day will be, above all other days, 
God^s own Day. That day, at least, if no other, 
will clearly manifest to all men the admirable wis- 
dom, goodness and equity of the Creator in His 
dealings with His creatures, and will forever vin- 
dicate the conduct of God in the events of this 
world, to the eternal glory of the good and the 
overwhelming and lasting confusion of the wicked. 
Yes, say the Fathers of the Church, it belongs to 
the Justice of God that there should be a day 
when the mysteries of iniquity will be unveiled, the 
mask of hypocrisy raised, and the apostles of error 
and falsehood confounded and condemned. In this 
last great act on the stage of this world, all things 
will finally be put in their natural place: inno- 
cence will be exalted, and villainy, deposed. Man, 
in his ignorance and blinded by his passions, dares 
to summon God Himself to his tribunal and de- 
mand of Him why He permits the good to suf- 
fer wrongly and the wicked to go unpunished ; why 
some are pinched with the most miserable want, 
while others roll in wealth and affluence. The 
motives that influenced the Almighty to deal thus 
with His creatures will be revealed on this great 



278 



IN A NEW WAY. 



day, and men will then acknowledge that nothing 
was more in accordance with rule and order in the 
dispensations of the Most High, than what ap- 
peared to them disorder: — "that all His ways 
were righteous, and all His paths were peace. 

With two questions, I shall conclude this dis- 
course. Will a General Judgment really take 
place, or, is it merely the dream of religious enthu- 
siasm I Yes, it shall most certainly be; for, the 
truths of faith are as immutable as God Himself. 
You will never question the certainty of JudgTaent 
Day, and you will be well prepared for its reality, 
if you bear alwaj^s in mind the words of Eternal 
Truth with which the gospel of to-day concludes: 
"Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words 
shall not pass away.'' Deny a General Judgment, 
and you must, perforce, deny the entire code of 
Christian Eevelation and Belief. 

Will the end of the world be soon ! Yes, it shall 
be soon. Some may fail to see the coming dis- 
aster; but the hand writing is on the wall. "Peo- 
ple are eating, drinking and making merry. So it 
was when the waters came and covered the earth ; 
so it was the very night when the Assyrian came 
down on Babylon ; so it was when Goth and Van- 
dal swept over the once peaceful Empire of Augus- 
tus; so it was when the g-uillotine sprung up like 
a mushroom in the night in the heart of the world's 
fashion and license; so comes the earthquake, the 



JUDGMENT, 



279 



cyclone, the flood ; so comes every disaster that be- 
falls men and families and states. ^ ' * 

Do not misunderstand me. When I say that the 
end of the world shall be soon, I do not mean, 
surely, to imply that I have even the faintest con- 
ception of a happening that lies impenetrably hid 
in the infinite knowledge and wisdom of God alone. 
But, as far as we are individually concerned, the 
J udgment is near at hand and the end of the world 
is not far off. We know, beyond the possibility of 
a doubt, that death may claim us for its own at 
any moment, and that the sentence pronounced on 
each and every human being in the Particular 
Judgment that inmediately follows death, will de- 
cide his fate for all eternity. After that, the world 
may go on for years, perhaps for ages; but, its 
duration, long or short, will concern us no more. 
For us, the world shall have ended with the day 
of our death; and the Last, or General Judgment, 
will only confirm the particular sentence that has 
already been ineffacably recorded in the Judgment 
Book of God. 

♦Fr. PoUard, S. J. 



It is a holy and a wholesome thought to pray 
for the dead that they may be loosed from their 
sins. II Mach. C. 12— 46, 



PURGATORY. 



The belief in a Purgatory or a third and middle 
state of souls is an article of faith, grounded not 
only on Scripture, but also upon the perpetual tra- 
dition and constant practice of all ages and nations 
since the earliest years of Christianity. We read 
in the twelfth chapter of the Second Book of Mach- 
abees, which is the last Book of the Old Testa- 
ment, that, in one of the battles which God's 
chosen people waged under the leadership of the 
valiant and religious Judas Machabaeus, some of 
his soldiers were slain, because they forfeited the 
Divine protection in acting contrary to the pre- 
scrij)tions of the Law of Moses. This religious 
chief; grieved at the sin of which his men had been 
guilty, and still hoping that they might obtain 
mercy, on account of the piety they had manifested 
in dying for their religion and their race, made 
a collection of twelve thousand drachms of silver 
which he sent to Jerusalem that sacrifice and 
prayer might be offered in their behalf. This act 
of the pious chieftain assures us that he must 
have known the doctrine that, after sins have been 



284 



IN A NEW WAY. 



remitted, there sometimes remains due a tem- 
poral punishment, from which punishment Judas 
hoped by prayer and sacrifice to release the souls 
of his deceased friends and fellow warriors. Holy, 
therefore, and salutary, says the Sacred Text, is 
the thought of praying for the dead that they may 
he loosed from their sins. 

Among the last instructions which the aged 
Tobias gave his son he counselled him to lay out 
his bread and wine upon the burial of a just man ; 
that is to say, after the death of a just man give 
alms to the poor that they may offer up their 
prayers to God in his favor. Tobias IV, 17-18. 
Our Blessed Savior in His Holy Gospel declares 
that, whosoever shall speak a word against the 
Son of Man it shall be forgiven him; but he that 
shall speak a word against the Holy Ghost it shall 
not be forgiven him, neither in this world nor in 
the world to come. Matt. XII. Saint Augustine 
urges this passage in favor of a middle state and 
says that the words '4n the world to come" show 
that there are sins that can be remitted in the 
future life. In His Sermon on the Mount Christ 
says: "Be at agreement with thy adversary be- 
times, whilst thou art in the way with him; lest, 
perhaps, the adversary deliver thee to the Judge, 
and the Judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou 
be cast into prison. Amen I say to thee thou shalt 
not go out from thence till thou pay the last farth- 



I>trEGATOEY. 



285 



mg." When, then, our Blessed Lord says ^Hhoii 
shalt not go out from thence till thou pay the last 
farthing" we must understand that there is a 
prison in the future life from which the soul is 
released, only after it has fully satisfied the justice 
of God. 

All the Fathers unanimously agree regarding 
the doctrine of a middle state; or souls suffering 
for a time on account of their sins. One of the 
earliest Christian writers, the learned Tertullian, 
who died about the year 220, describing the duty 
of a faithful widow to her deceased husband says : 
*^She prays for his soul and begs repose for him 
and his company in the first resurrection, and 
offers sacrifice on the anniversary days of his 
death." 

Saint Jerome, who died in the year four hun- 
dred and twenty, writing to a certain man named 
Pamachius, on the death of the wife of the latter 
says : Other husbands strew violets, roses, lilies 
and purple flowers on the graves of their wives, 
our Pamachius waters the holy ashes and vener- 
ated bones with the balm of alms, knowing that it 
is written: ^as water extinguishes fire so does 
alms, sin,' " He must, of course, refer to the Souls 
detained in Purgatory ; for, in heaven there is no 
sin, and, out of hell, we know, there is no re- 
demption. 



286 



Saint Epiphanius who lived in the last year of 
the fourth and the beginning of the fifth century 
relates that, when Arius denied prayers for the 
dead, this heresy was condemned by the whole 
Church and its author numbered among the heret- 
ics. The teaching of Saint Augustine, one of the 
most renowned and Illustrious Doctors and Fath- 
ers of the Church, regarding the existence of Pur- 
gatory is as clear as an Italian sky. History has 
preserved no more beautiful or touching episode 
than the parting interview said to have taken 
place between him and his sainted mother — Mon- 
ica. When that pious and venerable matron was 
near her death — that time when the passions make 
little impression upon us and the truth alone, ac- 
cording to our light is on our lips, she summoned 
her distinguished son to her side and thus ad- 
dressed him : ' ' My son, bury this body wherever 
you please ; give yourself no concern about it ; but 
one thing I ask of you that you remember me at 
the altar of the Lord wherever you may be." He 
buried her at Ostia, near the mouth of the river 
Tiber in Italy, whence her sacred relics were after- 
wards translated to Eome and placed in the church 
dedicated to her son. Saint AugTistine never for- 
got the dying advice of his holy mother; for, he 
was accustomed to offer up the ''price of our Ee- 
demption" for the eternal repose of her soul. He 
prays most beautifully for her in the Book of his 



PUEGATORY. 



287 



Confessions; and he beseeches God to inspire all 
who may read his book to remember at the altar 
both his mother Monica and his father Patricius. 

While Saint Louis the Ninth, King of France, 
who undertook the seventh Crusade against the 
Turks for the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre, 
was strengthening some strongholds still in the 
hands of the christians, he received the sad intel- 
ligence that his mother, the noble queen Blanche, 
was no longer in this world. Bursting into tears 
and casting himself at the foot of the altar in his 
chapel he exclaimed: ^'I thank Thee, 0 Lord, for 
having preserved to me so long the best of moth- 
ers. Truly there was nothing in this world that I 
loved with such tenderness. Thou takest her from 
me. It is Thy Almighty will. May Thy holy Name 
be forever blessed.'* This great king professed 
his belief in Purgatory and showed his deep affec- 
tion for his mother by having the Holy Sacrifice 
of the Mass offered up in his presence every day 
to the end of his life for the eternal repose of her 
soul. Eighteen years after, in twelve hundred and 
seventy, when he, too, came to die, he said to his 
eldest son, Philip : ''After my death, take care to 
have a great many masses and prayers said for me 
in all churches and religious communities of 
France, and give me a share in all the good works 
which you shall do.*' 



288 



IX A NEW" VV^AY. 



Two things I desire of you said Saint Margaret 
to her confessor on her death hed: ^'The one is, 
that^ so long as yon live, you remember my poor 
soul in your masses and prayers. The other is that 
you assist my children and teach them to fear and 
love God." 

And so I might continue to cite passages from 
the Fathers and instances from the lives of all 
God's servants, till I would weary you, in proof 
of the sentiment they entertained with regard to 
Purgatory; and yet, this dogma so clearly put 
forth by the most venerable men of ancient times, 
is rejected by those sects, separated from the fold 
of the Church, who prefer to follow the selfish lead 
of modern reformers, rather than embrace the af- 
fectionate teaching handed down to us from of 
old and hallowed by the veneration of antiquity, 
as well as of later ages. In the sixteenth century, 
when Luther, Calvin, and the so-called Eeformers, 
rose up and blasphemed against the doctrines of 
the Catholic Church the celebrated Council of 
Trent, which was convened to defend the teaching 
of the Church against the innovators, clearly de- 
fined her faith with regard to Purgatory in the 
following terms : ''If any one shall have said that 
to every sinner who repents, after having received 
the grace of Justification, sin is so remitted, and 
the guilt of eternal iDunishment blotted out that no 
guilt of temporal punishment may remain to be 



PURGATORY. 



289 



paid, either in this world or the future Purgatory, 
before the approach to the kingdom of heaven can 
lay open to him, let him be anathema. ' ^ 

We know, of course, that in the sacrament of 
Penance there are three essential parts : namely, 
Contrition, Confession and Satisfaction. Satisfac- 
tion in connection with the sacrament of Penance 
means or implies a fulfillment of whatever salu- 
tary penance the priest or confessor may impose ; 
and, it necessarily includes something still more 
important, namely, that whatever injury may have 
been done to one's neighbor in person, property or 
character must be fully repaired, or, at least, to 
the full extent of the penitent ^s ability; stolen 
property must be restored to its rightful owner; 
injured character must be repaired; calumnies 
must be withdrawn, even at the cost of the calum- 
niator's own reputation; all just debts must be 
paid, and all damage made good, otherwise there 
is no forgiveness here or hereafter. 

Our Divine Lord, it is true, offered up an infinite 
satisfaction for all; but, in order that it may be 
applied to our own individual souls, we, in turn, 
must do our share, must show our appreciation 
of His infinite service by offering up our own pen- 
ances and satisfactions. Hence, when through His 
infinite merits our sins have been pardoned and 
their eternal guilt has been washed away, there 
generally remains a temporal punishment to be 



290 



IN A NEW WAY. 



undergone either here or hereafter. That such is 
the case, is clearly and plainly put forth in many 
passages of Holy Writ. Adam and Eve sinned 
and their sin was pardoned and yet, alas, what ter- 
rible calamities befell them and us by way of tem- 
poral punishment. Moses the meekest of men and 
the favored friend of the illmighty, in punishment 
:of a certain diffidence and weakness of faith to 
'which he had given way when Grod commanded him 
to miraculously supply the people with water, was 
denied admission into the Land of Promise. And 
the Lord said to Moses and Aaron: "Because you 
have not believed me to sanctify me before the 
Children of Israel, you shall not bring these people 
into the land which I will give them.'' Numbers 
XX— II. 

We read in the twelfth chapter of the Second 
Book of Kings that, when the devout King David, 
a man after God's own heart, had the misfortune 
to commit a grievous sin and had repented of it, 
the Almighty sent His prophet Nathan to upbraid 
him for his crime. ' ' And David said to Nathan : I 
have sinned against the Lord. And Nathan said 
to David: The Lord also hath taken away thy 
sin; thou shalt not die. Nevertheless, because 
thou hast given occasion to the enemies of the 
Lord to blaspheme, for this thing, the child that is 
born to thee shall surely die." In like manner 
when the same royal personage committed a sin of 



PURGATORY. 



291 



vain glory in numbering his people, the Lord by 
way of temporal punishment gave him his choice 
of three evils : war, famine or pestilence. David 
chose pestilence ; and, there died of his people sev- 
enty thousand men. And yet, notwithstanding the 
Divine assurance that his sins were pardoned, the 
Sacred Text informs us that this penitent king ate 
ashes like bread and mingled his tears with his 
drink, ever remembering his former transgres- 
sions : ^'Peccatum meum contra me est semper.'' 
^^My sin is always before me." 

Some times, however, it is true, the whole tem- 
poral punishment may be remitted along with the 
sin, as is the case in Baptism and Martyrdom 
which, when received with the proper dispositions, 
entirely remit both the sin and the punishment due 
to it. The same happens, though rarely, in vehem- 
ent contrition and intense charity. But, seldom, 
alas! are sorrow and love so perfect, as to com- 
pletely remit all the punishment due to sin; and, 
as this punishment is not always paid in the pres- 
ent life, partly through negligence, and partly be- 
cause the penitent is frequently summoned hence 
before he has time to do penance for his sins, even 
after they have been forgiven, it follows, there- 
fore, that this penance for sin, this temporal pun- 
ishment due to it, must be borne in the other life 
where the soul is purged, before being admitted 



292 



IN A NEW WAY. 



into tlie eternal joys of heaven ^4nto which noth- 
ing defiled shall enter/' 

As to the particular place of punishment where 
the justice of God obliges Him thus to detain such 
souls, until their debts are fully discharged, or the 
kind and quality of the torments they suffer, or 
the manner in which they suffer, nothing has been 
defined by the Church. The opinion, however, 
commonly held by the Schoolmen is, that Purga- 
tory is situated in the interior of the earth. They 
tell us, moreover, that there are within the earth 
four enclosures, or, rather, one enclosure, which 
is divided into four parts; and that all pains en- 
dured in the future life are reduced to two, the 
pain of loss, or the pain of having lost God, and 
the pain of sense, or the pain by which each of the 
senses is afflicted. Again, these pains are tem- 
poral or eternal. One enclosure now no longer 
occupied was set aside for the souls of the just who 
died before Christ. This is known as the Limbus 
of the Fathers — Limbus Patrum.'^ In this lim- 
bus they felt the pain of loss, but this was only 
temporal, merely lasting for a time. A second 
Limbo is set aside for infants who die without 
Baptism. This is called the Limbus of Infants — 

Limbus Infantum. In it infants who die with- 
out Baptism suffer the pain of loss and this is eter- 
nal. A third enclosure in or under the earth, is 
that place where souls are purified and known to 



PURGATORY. 



293 



US by the term Purgatory. There the souls that 
need purification before reaching heaven suffer the 
double pain of loss and sense, each of which is 
temporal or lasting only for a time. Finally, the 
last and deepest gulf or part is that reserved for 
the reprobate, that is, for the rebel angels and for 
all who depart this world in the terrible state of 
mortal sin. In this horrid gulf the reprobate suf- 
fer at the same time the pain of loss and the pain 
of sense, both of which are eternal. 

Though nothing has been defined by the Church 
regarding the kind and quality of the sufferings 
endured in Purgatory, certain it is, that the pains 
surpass all that can be possibly imagined or de- 
scribed. Saint Augustine and other eminent Fath- 
ers and Doctors of the Church are of opinion that 
they suffer a real and material fire like that of 
hell; which being created merely for an instru- 
ment of Di\dne vengeance and blown up by the 
breath of an angry God has the special virtue of 
tormenting spirits with the most piercing activity 
and causes much more intense, more violent, more 
grievous pains than can be imagined or endured in 
this world. There is nothing in Revelation, it is 
true, to enlighten us with regard to the precise 
duration of the pains of Purgatory; but what we 
do know from this unquestionable source of truth 
is, that no soul that leaves this world defiled with 
the least stain, or charged with the smallest debt 



294 



IN A NEW WAY. 



to Divine Justice, can be admitted into that king- 
dom of perfect purity and unspotted sanctity till it 
be completely purged and cleansed. Nothing but 
what is decidedly chaste and spotless can stand 
before Him Who is infinite purity and sanctity and 
"Who cannot bear the sight of the least iniquity. 
Whence it is said of heaven : ' ' There shall in no 
wise enter into it anything defiled." — Apoc. 
XXI— 27. 

Enter not into judgment with Thy servant," 
prays the prophet David, ^^for in Thy sight shall 
no man living be justified." Ps. CXLII — 2. 
And does not the Prince of the Apostles assure us 
that the just man shall scarcely be saved? 

^ ^ There is no doubt, ' ' says the learned Cardinal 
Bellarmine, ''that the pains of Purgatory are not 
limited to ten or twenty years and that they last, 
in some instances, entire centuries. We know in 
general that they are measured by Divine Justice 
and that for each one they are proportioned to 
the number and gravity of the faults which he 
has not yet expiated. 

So, then. Purgatory exists. It exists in reality 
for many who, perhaps, while on earth, were near 
and dear to us and who at this moment are be- 
ing purged for faults which we regard as light 
and trivial, nay, perhaps, for faults which we 
ourselves occasioned. It exists, too, in all proba- 
bility, for you and for me ; for which of us would 



PUEGATORY. 



295 



presume to say that he has never yet sullied the 
bright robe of his Baptismal innocence, or that 
he has fully and perfectly satisfied Divine Justice 
for the transgressions that he has hitherto com- 
mitted ! Would, indeed, that it were thus ! Surely, 
we cannot deny that Purgatory is a reality; and 
hence our fear of it is well grounded; I go even 
farther and I say that, it is very likely, yea almost 
certain that, most, if not all of us, will pass 
through that prison from which we shall not go 
out till we have paid the last farthing. ^'We 
must,'^ writes the gentle Saint Francis de Sales, 
*'die between two pillows; the one of the humble 
confession that we merit nothing but hell; the 
other, of an entire confidence that God in His in- 
finite mercy will give us Paradise. ' ' 

''Better is it,'' says the pious Author of the 
Imitation, ''to purge away our sins, and cut off 
our vices now, than to leave them for purgation 
hereafter. There one hour of punishment will 
be more grievous than a hundred years of the 
most bitter penance here.'' Book I — c. XXIV. 

"He who purifies himself from his faults in this 
present life," declares Saint Catherine of 
Genoa, "satisfies with a penny a debt of a thou- 
sand ducats; and he who waits till the other life 
to discharge his debts, consents to pay a thousand 
ducats for that which before he might have i^aid 
with a iDenny." 



296 



IN A NEW WAY. 



And yet, witlial, the doctrine of Purgatory is 
not only deeply instructive, but likewise truly and 
eminently consoling. How beautifully Mother 
Church thus bridges over the dark chasm of the 
grave ! How faithfully and tenderly she comes to 
our aid in the saddest of our griefs and sorrows, 
bidding us not "to mourn as those who have no 
hope,'' and assuring us that not even death can 
sever the bond that unites us. 

How sweet and inviting the thought, to quote 
Chateaubriand, that the mortifications which we 
voluntarily impose upon ourselves, and the sacri- 
fices and prayers which we offer in behalf of the 
Souls of the Faithful Departed, will receive their 
reward from the Almighty in the rescue of a 
father, a mother, a brother, or a sister, from the 
expiatory flame! What a charming feature of 
our religion to impel the heart of man to virtue 
by the power of love, and to make him feel that 
the very coin which gives bread for the moment 
to an indigent fellow being, entitles, perhaps, 
some rescued soul to an eternal position at the 
table of the Lord. 

We have reason, indeed, to thank God for hav- 
ing called us to a religion whose charity and zeal 
extend beyond the narrow limits of this mortal 
life, and we should deem ourselves happy in be- 
ing the children of a Church which, after closing 
our eyes in death, is solicitous to assist us in the 



PUEGATORY. 



297 



world beyond the grave. The concern of our 
separated brethren for their members, extends 
not beyond the narrow limits that enclose their 
mortal remains; but the Catholic Church, that 
plaintive dove and beloved spouse of Jesus 
Christ, ceases not to intermit her sighs and tears, 
until she has placed us in the bosom of eternal 
happiness. 

And we, in turn, as children of so good a mother 
should never lose sight of the duty that we owe 
to our dead. It is a mistake to suppose that be- 
cause years have elapsed since they left us, or 
because of the good and virtuous lives they led 
while with us, that they have long ago been ad- 
mitted to the eternal joys of heaven. Still less 
should we imitate the example of those who, in 
their over exactitude for the last resting place 
of the departed, seldom or never breathe a prayer 
for the eternal repose of their souls. The flowers 
that we strew on the graves of our loved ones, 
and the stones that mark the last resting place of 
the dear departed, serve, it is true, to keep alive 
within us the memory of those that are gone; 
but these, remember, are only material and tem- 
porary testimonies of affection, unavailing to the 
silent sleeper beneath. The flowers will soon 
wither and die ; and the monument that rises but 
a few feet over the grave, will some day crumble 
and fall on the dust that covers it. Prayer, on 



298 



IK A NEW VvAY. 



the contrary, blooms forever in the heavenly gar- 
den of Paradise and ascends even unto the throne 
of Him Who holds in His hands the deliverance 
of the Holy Souls, and Who is ever ready and 
willing to hearken to the supplications which we 
address to Him for the peace and rest of the Souls 
of the Faithful Departed. 

It is said in the thirty-fifth chapter of the Book 
of Genesis that when Eachel died Jacob erected a 
pillar over her sepulchre: ^'this is the pillar of 
EachePs monument to this day.'' Many ages 
have passed away since then but the tradition 
of cherishing the memory of the dead has been 
consistent and universal. Christian Faith did not 
change it; but, with fuller knowledge, inspired 
more pressing motives and brought hope that 
made remembrance a consolation to the living and 
a blessing to the dead. In the catacombs, the in- 
scriptions — sometimes the briefest sentence, or 
even a word or two, coarsely scratched on the wet 
mortar — show the care that, even in the stress of 
persecution, would not leave the Faithful Depart- 
ed without a remembrance. Mortuary chapels, 
memorial windows, monuments in brass and mar- 
ble, anniversary masses, dirges and perpetual 
foundations, all bear witness to the many ways 
by which ^^love, strong as death'' strives to per- 
petuate the memory of the dead and gain prayers 
for their happy repose. Nowadays advantage is 



PUEGATOEY, 



299 



taken of means that modern times have put within 
our reach. We write the names of relatives and 
very dear friends in our prayer-books; we cir- 
culate memorial cards in the hope that they will 
be preserved, and at times remind the living of 
their duty and charity towards the dead. All this 
is beautiful. It is Catholic Faith and hope and 
love manifesting itself in one supreme desire of 
prayer for those who have passed away. It is 
impossible, of course, for us always to remem- 
ber, at the most fitting time, all for whom we have 
a wish, or for whom we have promised to pray. 
There are memories that no lapse of time can 
weaken; but there are many lying away in the 
outer circle of our charity that fade with the 
progress of our years. The cares of the world 
crowd into our lives, overlying and confusing one 
another, till dates are lost and even names are 
forgotten or only dimly and infrequently called 
to mind. But true charity embraceth and re- 
membereth all. History tells of an ancient Athe- 
nian, the celebrated Cimon, that he had the grief 
to see his father imprisoned by heartless cred- 
itors whom he was unable to satisfy. What was 
worse, he could not raise a sum sufficient to effect 
his father's ransom, and the old man died in 
prison. Cimon hastened to the prison and re- 
quested that they would, at least, permit him to 
take the body of his father that he might give it 



300 



IN A NEW WAY. 



burial. This, too, was refused Mm under pre- 
text that, not having wherewith to pay his debts, 
he could not be set at liberty. "Allow me, then, 
first to bury my father, ' ' cried Cimon, ' ' and I will 
immediately return and take his place in prison. ' * 
We admire this act of filial piety on the part of 
this pagan Athenian, but are we not also bound 
to imitate it! Have we not, perhaps, a father, a 
mother, or some dear one in the fiery prison of 
Purgatory, and, if so, are we not bound to deliver 
them, even at the cost of the greatest sacrifices! 
More fortunate than Cimon we have wherewith to 
pay their debts nor need we take their place. 
If, then, we have lost any dear friends in Christ, 
and who has not! — for 
"V/hat home so guarded that has no vacant chair. 
What flock so well tended but one dead lamb is there?" — 

Let US in our uncertainty as to whether they are 
yet with God, or still detained on the border- 
land of twilight and of longing, frequently and 
earnestly recommend them to the Divine clem- 
ency. Let no day pass over us in silence; no 
night; without a prayer for their peaceful and 
happy repose. 



Sternal ^«malfmp«t. 



''In a flame of fire, gi^^ng vengeance to tliem 
who know not God, and who obey not the gospel 
of our Lord Jesus Christ. Who shall suffer 

eternal punishment in destruction, from the face 
of the Lord, and from the glory of His power. ' ^ 

2 Thessalonians — 1-8-9. 



ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. 



The doctrine of Eternal Punishment is one that 
has, at all times, met with harsh and bitter op- 
position by those outside the pale of the Catholic 
Church. But, before men will ever be able, ef- 
fectually and permanently, to destroy all belief in 
a future state of reprobation, they must erase 
from the Christian code, all belief in God, religion 
and morality. Voltaire and the wretched crew that 
sided with him in their warfare against Chris- 
tianity, perverted their splendid abilities to fling 
away the fetters and restraints of religion and 
the Divine Law. Ingersoll and his unholy brood, 
the adherents of Socialism, Pantheism, Commu- 
nism, Nihilism, Agnosticism, and all the other 
isms'' that Free Thought and Infidelity have 
engendered are laboring hard, are sparing no 
pains, shrinking from no sacrifice, of honor and 
truth, to carry out their diabolical purposes. All 
these, it is true, gain a foothold over a few, and 
secure a following: for, nowadays, as ever, some 
doubt the doctrine, others half believe it, and more 
ridicule and discard it altogether. All this, how- 



304 



IN A NEW WAY. 



ever, does not signify that hell no longer exists. 
Man can not argnie away a hell without, likewise, 
destroying all hope of heaven; for the ultimate 
faith that we have in heaven is drawn from the 
same source from which emanates the fear of hell. 
If there is no hell, there can be no heaven. The 
profoundest hope, or the highest authority we 
have for either, is founded upon God^s unfailing 
word. Seeking light and information from this 
divine source we discover to our amazement, that 
wherever heaven is described as promised hell is 
also taught and seen. Eewards for the righteous 
and punishments for the wicked go hand in hand 
throughout the Bible story. 

Dante drew his conception of hell from our 
Blessed Savior's portrayal, and neither his poems 
nor Dore's pictures depict Gehenna as vividly as 
do the words of Christ. If there is no place in 
the realms of death where virtue shall face its 
destroyer, and where justice shall be meted to the 
ungodly, then life becomes a tragedy more dark, 
more terrible, and more inexplicable than death 
can ever be. If there is no hell In the world to 
come and no judgment throne, shall we then con- 
clude that the murderers, thieves in high places, 
oppressors of the poor, libertines, unjust judges, 
absconding bankers, dnmkards, grafters and 
bare-faced robbers, forever go unpunisHed for 
'their crimes'? God forbid. 



ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. 



305 



If the trend of modern thought and voluptuous 
living shrinks from the belief of an abode of lost 
and ruined souls, hard against its futile reason- 
ing stands the firm, cold judgment of Christ, the 
Son of the Living God, and the teachings of His 
everlasting Church which will merit the faith as 
well as the approbation of all true believers till 
the consummation of time. It will be my aim, 
then, to prove to you, in the first place, that hell 
exists; and afterwards to give you some idea of 
its torments and duration. 

In spite of the doubts and the denials of athe- 
ism and infidelity we are assured on the authority 
of Divine Eevelation that there is, somewhere, in 
God's creation a state of existence where the rebel 
angels and those who miss the purpose of their 
creation are eternally banished from the light of 
God's countenance and are in frightful torments 
— a land according to Holy Job ^^perpetually 
clouded with mists and darkness, where no order 
but everlasting horror inhabits;'' where there 
shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth. 

This state of existence is called by us, hell. No 
doctrine of our Holy Faith is more clearly set 
forth in Sacred Scripture than the doctrine of an 
endless state of punishment reserved for the 
wicked angels and those who die at enmity with 
their Creator ; and we prove this truth, first and 



306 



IN A FEW WAY. 



particularly, from those passages of the Divine 
Word in which the torments of the reprobate are 
directly called eternal. 

In the description which the Evangelist St. 
Matthew gives us of the last judgment, the Savior 
addresses the reprobate in these words: ^'Depart 
from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire which 
was prepared for the devil and his angels, and 
he concludes thus: These shall go into ever- 
lasting punishment, but the just into life everlast- 
ing,'^ Elsewhere in his gospel he tells us *'that 
it is better to enter into life maimed and lame, 
than having two hands and two feet to be cast 
into everlasting fire.'' (Matt. XVIII, 8.) 

St, Paul in his Epistle to the Thessalonians as- 
sures us that, ^^They who know no God and obey 
not the gospel of our Lord J esus Christ, shall suf- 
fer eternal pains in destruction from the face of 
the Lord, and the glory of His power." (IL 
Thes. I, 9.) 

The Sacred Scriptures likewise demonstrate 
the existence of hell from various other passages 
in which the state of the souls detained there is 
described as immutable. Hence it is said that the 
anger of God rests upon them; that they shall 
never attain the kingdom of heaven, and that they 
shall never obtain remission, but shall be guilty 
of an everlasting sin. 



ETEPvKAL PUNISHMENT. 



307 



The testimonies of the Fathers and the Doctors 
of the Church, the anathemas pronounced in coun- 
cils against those asserting the contrary, and the 
unanimous tradition of nations are all arguments 
in favor of this great truth of faith. Nay, more, 
the records of ancient peoples, both Christian and 
Barbarians, show traces of a belief in a future 
state of reprobation. Even the Romans of old 
had their Tartarus where the Furies tormented 
their wretched victims, and where the wicked suf- 
fered according to their crimes. The fact, too, 
that Almighty God Himself has been pleased to 
reveal it to us and that men of the greatest genius 
have at all times professed their belief therein 
is testimony sufficient that the doctrine contains 
in itself nothing inconsistent with the divine at- 
tributes, nor contrary to right reason. Almighty 
God, infinitely good as He is, wishes,of course, 
the salvation of all men and gives to every human 
being the means necessary and sufficient to attain 
the end of his creation. Now, it is but in accord- 
ance with reason and the divine attributes that 
a creature endowed with intellect and free will 
should, by co-operating with the grace of God 
and observing His holy laws, attain the purpose 
of its existence ; or, by resisting these means, lose 
it. We know, moreover, on the authority of 
Divine Revelation, that the present life is a time 
of merit or demerit, and reason itself assures us 



308 



IN A NEW WAY. 



that this time can not be indefinitely prolonged, 
otherwise the soul constantly struggling would 
never attain the crown, always in exile, would 
never arrive at its true country. It must needs 
be, therefore, that after the '^status viae,*' the 
journey or the way, there should follow the 
''status termini, the end, in which a rational 
creature if it has struggled courageously during 
the journey should attain the reward of its labors 
and rest in the possession of everlasting good. 

Eeason assures us, moreover, that the time of 
our probation extends not beyond the limits of 
this present life. The mutual conjunction of body 
and soul constitutes, as we know, human nature. 
The soul is created to animate the body, and the 
body exists as the companion of the soul in its 
operations. Hence, if the time of our probation 
is restricted to the present life when the soul and 
body are united, we must conclude that the 
future holds out for us rewards or punishments 
according to our merits, and that, if our proba- 
tionary term expires with the present life, the 
state of the soul is fixed and unchangeable at 
death. Consequently, he who dies at enmity with 
his Maker, remains eternally separated from 
Him, is deprived forever of the sovereign good in 
the possession and enjoyment of which consists 
eternal happiness. Furthermore, as sin which is 
the death of the soul can be removed only by God 



ETEENAL PUNISHMENT. 



309 



and justice lost restored at His good pleasure, 
and since God's grace is given us only in this life, 
it follows that, if sin is not remitted here it re- 
mains forever, and consequently that damnation 
is eternal. It is true that the Church has never 
issued a definite decree on the nature of the pun- 
ishment of hell; but it is clearly shown from the 
general teachings of the theologians that the pain 
of hell will be the pain of loss, and the pain of 
sense, and that each will be eternal. To be con- 
vinced of this it seems only necessary that one 
should read the numerous passages of the Scrip- 
tures bearing on this subject. Future punish- 
ment is in truth a necessary concomitant of the 
moral government of God, Who, we know, has 
made us free moral agents. We are at liberty to 
do or not to do, and we know that there is within 
us a monitor which tells us that we should do 
certain things and avoid others. We know, more- 
over, by experience, that the going counter to the 
promptings of this monitor involves remorse and 
suffering, sometimes of the intensest sort. It is 
a fearful thought that God has so constituted us 
that the violation of the laws of nature brings its 
own punishment. Hell, then, is not so much the 
arbitrary, direct infliction of Divine Justice, as it 
is the necessary consequence of our own actions. 
As heaven is nothing more or less than the Crea- 
tor and the creature, God and the soul, eternally; 



310 



IN A NEW WAYc 



united in their true relations, so hell is nothing 
more, essentially, than God and the soul eternally 
separated. 

God has created all things in ^' order weight 
and measure." He has established everything ac- 
cording to a definite plan and proportion, and all 
things stand in a certain, well-defined relation to 
each other, as well as to Himself. So long as 
these relations are duly preserved, peace and hap- 
piness ensue : when they are disturbed, peace and 
happiness give place to pain and anguish. The 
greater the disturbance, the greater and the more 
acute, of course, will be the pain; till, finally, the 
climax is reached when the disturbance comes to 
affect and interfere with that highest of all re- 
lations of which a rational creature is capable; 
the relation between himself and God. 

Whence comes pain in the body? From some 
departure from the harmony pre-established by 
the author of nature. A dislocated bone is one 
which is out of place, and moves not in its proper 
socket. It is a thing out of order. Pain ensues. 
A nerve becomes exposed; a fierce throbbing 
agony is the almost immediate consequence. That 
is nature's cry for the restoration of order. A 
grain of sand, a wandering mote, or some particle 
of foreign matter becomes lodged between the eye 
and its lid and again nature suffers, and that be- 
cause order is outraged. This law is inexorable. 



ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. 



311 



Every departure from the harmony established 
by the God of nature is visited with its propor- 
tionate punishment. Violate a law of nature, and 
nature will punish the offender. A little child is 
taught to balance itself and to walk upright by 
the pain it suffers in its repeated falls ; so also will 
it resist the attraction of the bright, dancing 
flames, and learn in course of time, to keep a re- 
spectful distance from the fire, but not till after 
it has once or twice burnt its fingers. So, again, 
excess in eating is punished in inconvenience and 
interior aches, and the experience of such after 
effects causes the greedy man to put a bridle on 
his appetite. 

From the many passages in the New Testament 
that give us a distinct knowledge of hell and its 
character, as well as from many more in the Old 
Testament, pertaining more or less directly to the 
subject, it should be evident to all that the Cath- 
olic Church has accepted the doctrine of eternal 
punishment like all the other articles of faith, 
from Divine Eevelation. Granted, then, that hell 
most undoubtedly exists, and that the torments 
endured there are eternal, let us see what hell is 
in itself, and in what these torments consist. 

Theologians, resting their authority on reason 
and revelation, tell us that the pains of hell are 
of two kinds, namely, the pain of loss and the 
pain of sense. The pain of loss which consti- 



312 



m A NEW WAY. 



tutes the very essence of hell, consists in the eter- 
nal deprivation of the Beatific Vision, and of 
those indescribable and unending joys reserved in 
the hereafter for those who love and serve their 
Maker. Yes, the agony of an intense and hopeless 
longing after God whom we know to be the source 
of all possible joy and happiness, and whom we 
have forever lost through our own fault, consti- 
tutes hell. Here on earth we see and admire God 
only as He is reflected in the mirror of creation. 
We behold His omnipotence in the storm and in 
the tempest. His beauty in the admirable frame- 
work of creation ; His bounty and goodness in the 
graces and the blessings we enjoy; but Himself 
we see not; and consequently we know not now 
what it is to lose Him. On judgment day, how- 
ever, we shall behold His Divine Beauty, not in- 
deed in the Beatific Vision, but under the trans- 
parent veil of the glorified humanity of the Incar- 
nate Son of God: and beholding this, we shall 
yearn after God with a nameless yearning, and 
the knowledge of what we have lost through our 
own fault will fill us with intolerable confusion 
and anguish. This will be the worm that dieth 
not, far worse than the fire which shall never be 
extinguished. If, then, the possession and the en- 
joyment of God in the Beatific Vision is so great a 
good, and eternal separation from the light of 
His countenance so great an evil, what kind of 



ETEKKAL PUNISHMENT. 



313 



a life must it be that is lived in hell! The life 
of hell is a life in which all kinds of bodily agonies 
are endured, and that, too, to the very highest 
degree. Think of the countless painful diseases 
to which men may be subjected; of the number- 
less ills to which flesh is heir, some of which kill 
with sheer pain in a few moments. Every limb, 
every deeply hidden nerve, every cell which life 
informs, has a cluster of torments peculiar to it- 
self. Eeflect upon what the head, the teeth, the 
ears, the eyes alone can suffer. Consider, more- 
over, all the variety of wounds that may be in- 
flicted upon our wincing flesh and our tingling 
nerves, whether upon a field of battle, or in a sur- 
gical operation. All the exquisite ingenuity of all 
the tortures that were heaped upon all the mar- 
tyrs in the days of persecution: all these and an 
excess of new and undreamed of tortures of our 
flesh, all these, always and at the highest degree, 
always up to the pains of the intolerable and be- 
yond it, such is the life of hell. 

This is something terrible, but to it we must 
add the mental agonies that are there endured. 
Envy, spite, rage, gloom, sadness, vexation, grief, 
dejection, all these are there, in all their kinds 
and in unspeakable intensity. In hell every vice 
will have its own peculiar torments. There the 
proud will be filled with all confusion, and the 
avaricious pinched with the most miserable want. 



314 



IN A NEW WAY. 



There tlie slotliful will be joricked witli burning 
goads : the gluttonous and intemperate tormented 
with extreme hunger and thirst and the luxurious 
and the lovers of pleasure will have burning pitch 
and fetid sulphur rained upon them; while the 
envious, like rabid dogs, will howl with grief. 

The life of hell is a life from which there is a 
total absence of sympathy and love. This is a 
very easy thing to say, but it is not as easy to 
penetrate into its significance. The mind loses it- 
self when it endeavors to traverse an intermin- 
able desert eternity where no flowers of love, nor 
even their similitude can grow. Shall a sympa- 
thetic voice never speak to us more? Shall a 
kindly eye never look at us again? Shall even the 
hearts of the fathers and the mothers and the 
dear ones now basking in the noonday brightness 
of God's unfailing beauty, and who loved us with 
such unutterable tenderness now beat the more 
happily because the justice of God is done upon 
us forlorn, impenitent offenders? Who can live 
without love? I know not. Love more than any 
other passion has controlled the destinies of the 
world. It has been, historically, the greatest nat- 
ural motive power upon earth; nay, whence comes 
the natural brightness which the life of every 
maU; woman, and child here present to-day pos- 
sesses if not from love? What should we be at 
this very moment if we had none to love ? We all 



ETEENAL PUNISHMENT. 



315 



crave for it. Our whole nature expands under its 
influence. It converts the deepest misery into 
happiness and makes heroes out of cowards. 

"In peace love tunes the shepherds reed 

In war he mounts the warriors steed. 

In halls in gay attire is seen 

In hamlets dances on the green 

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 

And men below, and saints above. 

For love is heaven, and heaven is love. (Scott). 

But in hell it is not so, and there we know that 
the lost must live without it. More than this, 
hatred will be all around them. Every lost soul, 
every lost demon will hate them, hate them indi- 
vidually and with a concentration of rage and 
hatred that it is even terrible to think of. There 
is something insupportable in being hated; some- 
thing maddening. Even when we are hated un- 
justly, and by only one man, and with love all 
around us, coming in from every point of the com- 
pass, see how we run to God and cling to Him 
that He may make up for us what is wanting and 
take our part against our unjust brother. But, 
in hell we shall be inundated with scorn and rage 
and we shall one while cower in our shame as 
knowing how richly a confirmed enemy of God 
merits far more than this ; and another while we 
shall rage with equal scorn and hatred against 



316 



IN A NEW WAY. 



every one else, even while we ourselves are being 
crushed by the utter impatience of an unutterable 
fury. 

The life of hell is also a life of terror. Fear is, 
perhaps, one of the greatest tortures to which 
human nature can be submitted. Have you not at 
some time or other experienced the dread which 
the visible approach of some great evil ; the agony 
of an uncertain evil, or the distracted fright of a 
present evil caused you I Yet, ordinarily, life is 
not greatly tortured by fear. It is for the most 
part but an occasional visitant, and an extremely 
transient one at that. Indeed, life would be hardly 
bearable if it were otherwise. But the whole life 
of hell is a life of fear, and fear such as is un- 
heard of upon earth. One feature of hell will 
enable us to bring this home to ourselves. We 
shall be in the hands of devils whose office it shall 
be to rack, distress, and torture us with a vin- 
dictive cruelty of which we can form no concep- 
tion. Think of being confined for a night only 
with an unchained, freneied maniac in a cell, to 
be locked in, bound hand and foot amidst a crowd 
of savages, all free to torment us as they would, 
what light and easy endurances even these would 
be compared with those wild panics of rage and 
terror in hell, a terror which can neither escape, 
nor hide itself, nor die. The life of hell is a life 
without pauses, dimunitions, or vicissitudes. No 



ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. 



317 



Angel e^ef wings his way thither on an errand 
of consolation. All the combined eloquence of 
that fiery abode could not bring even one single 
drop of water from earth's thousand fountains to 
cool the torture for one lightnings flash of time. 

Father Abraham," cried the rich man, '^have 
mercy on me, and send Lazarus that he may dip 
the tip of his finger in water to cool my tongue, 
for I am tormented in this flame. ' ' What was the 
answer 1 ' ' Son, remember that thou didst receive 
good things in thy lifetime, and likewise, Lazarus 
evil things ; but now he is comforted and thou art 
tormented. ' ' 

Finally, the life of hell is a life of blank and 
absolute despair. As it is difficult for us to con- 
ceive a life without love, it is, perhaps, not less so 
to fancy what it is not to hope. We can not put 
into form and figure in our own minds the un- 
imaginable blackness of a soul from which all ex- 
pectation, all prospect, all future has fled. Here 
on earth we are always looking forward to some 
thing. We count for days ; for weeks ; for months, 
upon some proffered pleasure, to find, when it is 
past and gone, that half the enjoyment was in 
the anticipation thereof. In heaven we know 
that all will be continuous and unwearied; new 
joys will be ever gushing forth, gladsome and 
afresh, from the soul, accompanied with such mag- 
nificent expansions both of interest and of heart 



318 



m A NEW WAY. 



as are beyond the boldest and the wildest of our 
present dreams. But in hell the only vicissitude 
is the misery of an impatience that has no hope; 
the only future is the everlastingness of its in- 
tolerable present. 

Holy Scripture tells us that hell is a place of 
eternal torments, of everlasting fire, where the 
worm never dies, and where the fire is never ex- 
tinguished ; a land of darkness and distress where 
misery dwells forever; a pit of fire where there 
will be weeping and gnashing of teeth; a horrid 
prison where there will be no release; a pit of 
flames and brimstone, into which all those are 
cast who, during life, gave themselves over to sin- 
ful pleasure ; a boundless ocean of fire kindled by 
the wrath of an angry God into which the damned 
shall be hurled forever. Here on earth the bare 
mention of the word fire, in many cases, carries 
with it a dreadful thought. If a live spark fall 
on our clothing, it is madness we think to play 
with it. When we read or hear others narrate 
how the enemies of Christ poured hot melted lead 
down the throats of the early Christians, and even 
besmeared their bodies with seething pitch to light 
up the Eoman amphitheatres by night, our sensi- 
bilities are touched to the quick. Yet, all these 
torments had an end. Death came and brought 
relief to the martyrs and then their souls were 
conducted to heaven; but the fire of hell, con- 



ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. 



319 



stantly fanned by the anger of the Almighty, is 
endless. It is a fire, says St. Angnstine, which 
measures the wickedness of the sinner; a fire 
whose intensity and quantity grow in proportion 
to the number and enormity of his sins; a fire 
which instead of consuming its victim, keeps it 
alive. Every one of the lost souls," says Holy 
:Writ, shall be salted with fire." (St. Mark, IX 
— 48.) As the packer so covers his meat so that 
it penetrates every fibre, and preserves it from 
decay, so shall the fires of hell penetrate the bod- 
ies and the souls of the damned, even to the very 
marrow of their bones, and thus preserve alive for 
all eternity those unfortunate victims of divine 
justice. What a frightful sentence to fall from 
the lips of a merciful Jesus. Every one shall 
be salted with fire." 

*'It is a fearful thing," says St. Paul, in his 
Epistle to the Hebrews (X, 31), ''to fall into the 
hands of the living God." And, as no eye hath 
seen, nor ear heard, and as it hath not entered 
into the heart of man to conceive, the great hap- 
piness of the blessed in heaven; so, also, no eye 
hath seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into 
the mind of man to conceive, the dreadful tor- 
ments in hell awaiting those who, when on earth, 
were given over to vice, and then die without be- 
ing reconciled to the God whom they had offended. 
It is said in the book of Eccl., ''If the tree fall 



320 



IN A NEW WAY. 



to the south or to the north, in whatsoever place 
it shall fall, there shall it be.'' The tree here 
spoken of is the human soul. At the moment of 
its separation from the body it falls either to 
the north or to the south, that is, it goes either 
to heaven or to hell. And, just as Almighty God 
allows the dead tree to remain where it has fallen, 
so does He also permit the soul to lie forever in 
that bed which in life it had prepared for itself. 
To say that the human language can not express 
the anguish of eternal perdition is putting it very 
mildly. We can not in our present state of ex- 
istence, even imagine what it really is. We might 
talk all day to a man, blind from his birth, about 
the beauties of a landscape and descant upon the 
pleasing effects produced on us by light and 
shade, diversity of color, and the like, but it would 
be simply impossible for him to gain from any 
description that might be given to him of nature, 
such ideas as we get by the use of our eyes. Could 
the reprobate even for one single instant cherish 
the hope that after the long lapse of lingering 
ages, the Creator might compassionate their mis- 
ery and mitigate the intensity and duration of 
their sufferings, I fancy that hell would soon be- 
come a sort of paradise. But, no, the disconso- 
late and forlorn hope that they might have been 
saved will be indelibly engraven in fiery charac- 
ters upon the walls of hell, and the parting male- 



ETERNAL PTTNISHMENT. 



321 



diction of the Savior, '^depart from me ye cursed 
into everlasting fire which was prepared for the 
devil and his angels/' will forever re-echo 
through the dismal abodes of that bottomless pit 
from which ^'neither plummet nor rope shall ever 
draw the silver sand of hope.'' 

Many comparisons have been employed to con- 
vey to us an idea of the eternity of hell's tor- 
ments. The following appears to me to be the 
most startling. I will suppose for the moment 
that I have lost my soul and that I am buried deep 
down in the deepest vaults of hell. Once in every 
thousand years — think what a long, long period 
that is — an angel leaves his home in heaven, and 
winging his noiseless flight to my abode of misery 
and pain, carries away in a little golden thimble 
one briny tear. He goes back to his home, and 
after the long and wearisome lapse of another 
thousand years, returns again, and he continues 
to repeat his milennial visits with uninterrupted 
fidelity. At the end of his sixth visit his tiny ves- 
sel is full and I have been in hell six thousand 
years — a period which the geologists tell us the 
world has been in existence. Now, when he shall 
have collected tears enough to flood the universe, 
not this earth alone, mind you, which is but an ant 
hill in God's creation, but all the countless worlds 
that roll in space, my eternity, will be no nearer 
to its end than when the angel carried away in 



322 



IN A NEW WAY. 



his little golden thimble that very first briny tear. 

To the consideration of such a thought we cry 
out with St. Augustine, *^Lord, here burn, here 
cut, but spare me for eternity. ' ' Yes, when years 
will have passed into ages, when ages will have 
passed into myriads and myriads of ages, when 
the mind of man will have exhausted itself in en- 
deavoring to measure the breadth of eternity by 
its own ideas of time; yea, when time itself will 
have ceased, and worlds will have passed away, 
hell will ever be at its beginning to continue 
through the ages that are to be forever and for- 
ever. 

Think you that they are many that are lost! 
Oh, yes. It is a truth implied in our Blessed 
Lord's own divine words, ^^Many are called, but 
few are chosen. Strive to enter by the narrow 
gate, for many I say to you shall seek to enter 
and shall not be able. Wide is the gate and broad 
is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many 
there are who go in thereat. How narrow is the 
gate and straight is the way that leadeth to life, 
and how few there are that find it.'' These are 
the utterances of One who has declared that 
though heaven and earth shall pass away His 
word shall remain forever. The Lord, as the 
Prophet Ezechiel assures us (XXXIIL, II), does 
not desire the death of any sinner, but that he be 
converted and live. He is not willing, says St. 



ETEENAL PUNISHMENT. 



323 



Petei; that any should perish (2 Peter, III. 9) and 
the great Apostle St. Paul declares that it is 
God's will that all men be saved and that they 
come to the knowledge of the truth (Tim. I. Eph. 
IV). He invites all men, without exception, to 
the inheritance of His heavenly kingdom, and sup- 
plies them with the means necessary and sufficient 
to attain the happy end of their creation. Never- 
theless, it is not to be doubted but that the greater 
part of mankind is lost forever, since the unfail- 
ing words of Christ Himself declare it to be so. 
*^Many are called, but few are chosen.'* Why 
God has made us free agents and put our happi- 
ness or misery on our own hands we can not tell. 
He has not revealed the reason to us. The fact 
we know by experience and aside from the testi- 
mony of revelation, we have every reason to sup- 
pose that our condition in another world will de- 
pend upon our character and conduct in this. We 
shall carry our character with us. *^As the tree 
falleth so shall it lie.'' If we are lost it will be 
onj own fault, and the most poignant part of all 
our grief will be the reflection that it might have 
been otherwise. 

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen. 

The saddest are these: It might have been." 

Objection is some times made to endless punish- 
ment on the grounds of the goodness and the 
mercy of God. But nothing could be more futile. 



324 



m A NEW WAY. 



Its absurdity is proven from the fact that we not 
only sutler in this world in consequence of our bad 
actions, but we suffer, apparently, in a manner 
greatly disproportioned to the fault committed. 
How often, for example, does a man by some 
youthful indiscretion, lay the foundation for a 
lifetime of wearisome, intense suffering. God 
permits this. There are hells in this world, and 
if we are allowed to make beds of fire for our- 
selves on which we are compelled to lie for a life- 
time, without impugning the goodness and the 
mercy of God, who will dare to say that we may 
not prepare for ourselves beds of fire in eternity, 
without impugning that same goodness and 
mercy. More than this. Theologians and spir- 
itual writers do not hesitate to compare the many 
that are lost to the flakes of snow and the drops 
of water that fall from the heavens on a winter 
day, or to the countless sands that pave the sea- 
shore. On the other hand, they draw similes from 
the Scriptures and compare the number of those 
who are chosen and saved to the few ears of corn 
that are picked up by the gleaner during the har- 
vest, and to the few grapes which escape the work- 
man's eye in the vintage. 

They tell us, moreover, that of all the descend- 
ants of Adam, from the creation down to the very 
end of time, by far the greater number is lost. 
Of Christians they say that, if we exclude bap- 



ETERITAL PUNISHMENT. 



325 



tized infants, who die in the days of their purity 
and innocence, only a minority is saved. When 
the calculation is confined to adult Catholics alone, 
opinion is divided. But, even then, the number of 
those who take a rigorous view of the matter, or 
who incline to the belief that more are lost than 
are saved, is far in excess of those who hold the 
contrary opinion. 

All this is terrifying, to be sure, and is enough 
not only to alarm sinners, but also to fill the just 
with a salutary fear. Think you that you and I 
will be saved? God grant that it may be so. 
Would it not be woful in the extreme, if any one 
here present should be lost? You who have so 
many and great opportunities : you who were born 
and baptized in the bosom of the one, true, and 
saving faith: you who are nourished with great 
sacraments and who are the centre of a very 
world of invisible graces and blessings ! And, oh, 
woful beyond measure would it not be, and what 
excuse could I plead, if I should be lost ; I a priest 
of the Living God, exercising daily functions that 
angels would gladly perform ; I who am daily fed 
with the bread of life and the wine that generates 
virgins : I who have been so long familiar with the 
eternal truths ; I who am permitted to live so close 
to the Holy of Holies, and to handle all the sacred 
vessels of the sanctuary; and who have a pro- 
fusion of lights and graces not granted to those 



326 



IN A NEW WAY. 



less divinely favored: what plea, I repeat, can I 
offer, if I should happen to be lost? And, yet, 
to all of us, hell is an imminent possibility. Even 
at best, with the bravest efforts, it is not at all 
certain that any one of us shall escape it. The 
saints tell us that those who are the surest of not 
going there, are the likeliest to be mistaken. No 
man knoweth, says the Scripture, whether he be 
worthy of love or hatred. Work out your salva- 
tion in fear and trembling is the injunction of the 
Savior. You remember the parable of the rich 
man and Lazarus. When the drop of water for 
which the rich man, buried in the abyss of hell, 
so despairingly prayed that Lazarus might be 
permitted to bring him, was denied him, he made 
the second but equally fruitless request: **Then 
father, I beseech thee, that thou wouldst send him 
to my father 's house, for I have five brothers, that 
he may testify unto them, lest they also come into 
this place of torments.^' And Abraham said to 
him: ^'They have Moses and the prophets; let 
them hear them." But he said: '^No, father 
Abraham; but if one went to them from the dead 
they will do penance.'' But he said to him: *^If 
they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will 
they believe if one rise again from the dead." 

It is not unlikely, but that at times it may have 
crossed your minds, also, that, if in some vision of 
the night some visitor from the land of spirits ; a 



ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. 



327 



father, a mother, a brother, or a sister, long since 
dead, were permitted to return and disclose to us 
some of the secrets of the unseen world, we would 
be better than we are. No, we would not be. 
The dead do not come back to us. The means and 
the advantages which they had once, we have now ; 
and the same which we have now, they had once. 
We have God's indefectible church, and her 
divinely appointed ministers; we have her sacra- 
ments and her sacrifice ; you have good examples, 
good books and prayer and if you neglect, abuse 
and despise these great means of salvation, your 
wail, when the temporal shall have given place to 
the eternal, will be the unavailing wail of the lost 
ones in that bottomless pit where their worm 
dieth not and the fire is never extinguished.''* 

But who of all the countless dead have avoided 
hell? Those, and those only, who on earth took 
up their cross, and took it up daily, and so, and 
only so, and always so, have followed Christ. I 
have placed before you on this terrifying subject 
but thin shadows of their lesser realities; and, I 
earnestly hope and trust and pray that these thin 
shadows may lead us on, until hell, its existence, 
and torments may penetrate deep into our hearts 
and take their right place in our daily lives, 
and cause us so to live that we may escape hell, 
and merit to live with God forever and forever in 
the enjoyment of the Beatific Vision. 



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